


Stand By Me

by Hepzheba



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (None of the good guys die though), Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek and Jordan are best bros, Derek is a Good Alpha, Feral Derek, First Time, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Derek, Pack Cuddles, Pack Feels, Pining, Rimming, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepzheba/pseuds/Hepzheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek goes back to Beacon Hills to become a deputy, leaving his two sisters in New York. In Beacon Hills he finds a new best friend, a new pack and maybe even love. But there are also a rogue Alpha and crazy hunters disturbing the peace of Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the great nanowrimo fic of 2014. This is going to be the longest fic I've ever posted and I'm a bit terrified. Derek is not as traumatized as he is in canon and the reason he returns is to become a deputy. The rating and warning are for later chapters, as are some of the tags. 
> 
> A huge thanks to my lovely beta foreverblue-navy! And also to the people in the Swedish Nanowrimo chat that I ranted at and had so much fun with. I would never have reached my word count without you guys!
> 
> As this is based on canon, a lot of the events from season one and two happen, maybe not in the right order though. I've also taken some of the dialogue.  
> I must also warn you that this story isn't really Scott-friendly. This further explanation about this might be considered a spoiler for later chapters so read only if you feel you might be uncomfortable with Scott not being the all good hero: There won't be any Scott bashing per se but in this Scott will be made responsible and shunned for his actions - which are the same as in canon.
> 
> Thanks to bleep0bleep for letting me copy this one:  
> This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of Teen Wolf, including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom.

Derek has never really liked living in New York. He actually didn’t want to leave Beacon Hills in the first place but both his sisters needed to get away from the small town where they only had the burnt remains of their family’s house, and their own memories of their parents. Laura was the one who always had wanted to go to New York. Cora, being the youngest of the siblings, wanted anything her sister wanted. Back then Derek would never even dream of leaving his sisters. For months he panicked whenever they were parted. But even if he never really got used to the buzz of the big city, he grew comfortable in himself, grew used to not always being around his sisters. At first they had all lived together in a one room apartment. Laura was the only one legal at the time and had quickly become both Derek and Cora’s guardian. Derek turned eighteen a year later but it would take two more years before he moved to his own apartment, closer to the college he went to. New York helped him a lot, healed him, probably more than the town he’d grown up in ever could do.

He can’t really explain why he’s moving back now, it just feels right.

Some things look just the same – the library and the museum are both in old buildings that looked the same a hundred years ago and probably will look the same a hundred years from now. The high school looks the same, too.

The Sheriff’s station is brand new after a rather unpleasant infestation of cockroaches. Derek doesn’t really remember the station from before. He remembers the sheriff though; he put a blanket over Derek’s shoulders, even though he wasn’t cold, after their house had burnt down – and along with it, their parents. The sheriff had said something, too. Derek doesn’t remember what he said but he remembers that the words were comforting at that time. Derek’s quite proud that the sheriff decided to let him come and work for him at the station. Derek’s desire to become a deputy probably has a lot to do with the sheriff, who was a deputy by the time Derek last saw him.

Going back to Beacon Hills – or maybe going home? – doesn’t feel different. Derek doesn’t know what he expected, but he doesn’t feel any different crossing the county lines from how he’s felt the whole car ride from New York to Beacon Hills.

He’s found a nice apartment close to the preserve, where he plans on running on the hopefully familiar trails at least a few times a week, but it’s also quite close to the center of the town, and with that, the sheriff’s station.

He arrives to Beacon Hills late on Saturday evening, only having the energy to google a place that can deliver him some pizza and soda. His fridge is empty, but that’s a problem he’s going to have to worry about tomorrow.

Maybe it’s the hunger talking, but the pizza is delicious. He plugs in the TV, considering that more important than unpacking his clothes or kitchen things, but he feels too restless to really get into any of the shows or movies that are showing. He ends up in bed, staring up into the ceiling. It’s quiet outside, he’s used to always hearing people and cars passing by, always seeing the flickering of the lights of cars that pass by through the blinds. He can hear an owl screech outside, probably in the preserve. If he strains his ears he can hear a car, too.

At last he falls asleep.

Sunday is dedicated to unpacking as much as possible. It’s boring, but he doesn’t really have time to think about the fact that his sisters are on the other side of the country or that he’s starting a new job tomorrow.

His sisters haven’t understood his desire to become a deputy.

“You hate people,” Cora had said.

It’s not true, Derek just hates stupid people.

“Yeah,” Laura had agreed. “You hate _helping_ people.”

That’s not true either. Derek hates helping stupid people. Like serving them stupid coffee drinks with just the right amount of sugar, and heaven forbid, if he should make one out of regular milk instead of low fat!

Needless to say, Derek’s days as a barista had been over quite quickly.

Helping people in need is different than serving people overpriced lattes, Derek’s sure of it. He’s not so much worried about the job in itself, as he is of his new colleagues. He’s never had easy for getting new friends. To be honest, he’s never even really had any close friends. Somehow he hopes that Beacon Hills, and the sheriff’s station in particular, is going to change that.

He wakes up early enough to go for a run on Monday morning. The preserve is full of birds and he can hear deer and rodents, but he never sees any, his steps aren’t light enough for them not to hear and he doesn’t try to make them that either.

He feels better, less nervous, after his run. He gets to the station well in time for when he’s meeting the sheriff. He greets the woman at the front desk awkwardly as he gets there.

“I’m here to see,” he has time to say before he hears someone call his name.

He turns and the sheriff comes up to him shaking his hand heartily and smiles at him. The sheriff smells of coffee and waffles and warmth, however that smells like.

“It’s good to see you again, Derek. Have you settled in yet?”

After a quick tour, Derek is placed with one of the older deputies, Tara. She shows him around town and explains more about their work. He feels rather overwhelmed when the day is over. He orders takeout from a Chinese place that night.

 

Jordan Parrish is another deputy in training; he’s been on the force six months and is just a few years older than Derek. While Tara has explained all written rules for Derek, Jordan takes to explain all the unwritten ones. He’s driving with Jordan a late evening when Jordan sighs heavily. In front of them a blue jeep is driving with just one tail light.

“For fuck’s sake, I told him to fix them!” Jordan swears, to himself probably but Derek’s keen hearing picks it up easily.

Jordan blinks at the car to stop and the Jeep drives up the side stopping. Jordan pulls in behind.

“This is the final test,” he grins. “If you can handle this one, you can handle anything.”

Derek gets the distinct feeling that this car – or more likely its owner – is a reoccurring troublemaker for the sheriff’s department of Beacon County. Jordan nods encouragingly at him and he gets out of the car. He approaches the blue jeep and the window winds down – old-time, manual screechy winding.

“Hello, deputy,” a cheerful voice calls, “what can I doooo- you?”

Derek arches an eyebrow at the kid, because it’s just a kid behind the wheel. His mouth has fallen open as he looks Derek up and down. Derek’s gotten a lot of positive attention because of his looks but he still feels his cheeks burn.

“Evening,” Derek says, way more tightly than he usually is when he talks to citizens. The kid’s mouth snaps shut.

“Good evening to you, deputy,” the kid leans out of his window, squinting at Derek’s nametag and Derek feels a silly urge to cover it, just to see how the kid would react. He stands completely still with his hands by his sides. “Deputy Hale.”

The kid gives him a smile and his brown, doe eyes sparkle.

“How come I haven’t seen you before? You’re new, aren’t you? If I’d known you’d be younger than the other dinosaurs I’d taken time to come over way sooner.”

Derek snorts.

“Jordan’s younger – I mean deputy Parrish.”

This time it’s the kid’s time to snort.

“Call him Jordan, I’m on first name basis with everyone at the station.”

Derek doesn’t know how to respond to this. The kid’s probably not even eighteen and he doesn’t seem like a gang member or someone who gets into trouble with the police force. And he doesn’t smell like pot or any other drugs. He smells like sugar and something else sweet, maybe fruity. He smells rather good, actually. Derek scowls at the kid, he’s too young to smell this good.

“You stopped me for the taillight, didn’t you?”

Derek nods dumbly. The kid makes a face, and now that Derek’s realized how good he smells, he also realizes that he’s rather good-looking. His brown hair is tousled – bed-hair, Derek’s brain unhelpfully supplies. His skin is of a rather pale complexion and there are moles dotted along his cheeks, making Derek wonder if they cover all of his body. His lips are pink and sinful and- He’s a kid, goddammit!

“Yeah, the taillight,” Derek says and the kid rolls his eyes, along with his whole head. He’s got a long, nice neck. Derek looks away quickly.

“I know, I’m going to fix it, but I haven’t had time, I had to drive Scott home after practice and then he insisted I came in and played his new game. Let me tell you, it was awesome!”

Derek’s at a loss of what to do.

“Uh, sorry to keep you,” the kid interrupts his own rant of how good Scott’s new video game was. “Don’t tell the old man, okay? I said I’d fixed the light.”

Derek finds himself agreeing, even if he has no idea who ‘the old man’ is.

“It was nice seeing you, Deputy Hale-”

“Derek,” Derek says and god, why does he say that?

The kid smiles.

“Derek. Right. I’ll see you around.”

He probably means it like anyone means it, like they see each other sometime in this small town, but to Derek’s ears there’s an underlying, sexy hint. Before he’s got time to reply, or ask for the kid’s name (and age) the kid drives off and Derek’s left to face Jordan’s laughter.

“He’s a little shit, isn’t he?” Jordan laughs and Derek half-shrugs, his face still feeling hotter than usual. Jordan doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. Derek’s glad for it.

 

His days continue and he forms a routine in Beacon Hills. He gets up early enough before work to take a run in the preserve. There’s a calm there that he enjoys immensely, even though the birds are all awake, chirping and searching for food or whatever it is birds do when they hop around from branch to branch, and there are deer and rabbits. Sometimes Derek sneaks up on a deer or a rabbit, just to jump out and scare them. He enjoys the sound of their heartbeats speeding up as they run or hop away from him. Sometimes he follows them, his fangs visible and his eyes bright blue instead of his regular mix of green and brown. He never catches them, never even tries to, but he could if he wanted to. He enjoys keeping the predator in him alert and alive like that.

The first full moon without his pack, his sisters, is harder than he’s used to. He spends the first half of the night inside, feeling the pull of the full moon at his bones, at his soul. At two in the night he leaves the house and runs through the preserve on all fours, scaring rabbits and deer – and at one memorable occasion a coyote.

He feels calmer after that, more in control even if he’s never really lost control over himself. He thinks of the kid in the blue jeep, the one with Bambi eyes, and he wants to go search for him, wants to bury his face where the kid smells the most, the best.

He runs even faster, deeper into the woods, chases rabbits and deer. The sun is starting to rise when he decides to take a nap underneath a tree, in the softness of grass – he might be in control so he won’t hurt anyone, but some of his decisions might not be the same he would have made if he’d been completely human.

He makes it back to his apartment slowly almost at noon. He’s glad he managed to get the day after the full moon off. He wonders if anyone will notice if he always takes the day after the full moon off. He knows from experience that it’s better to have the day off and to enjoy the full moon at its fullest instead of staying inside trying to sleep and then get up early in the morning to work. He sleeps most of the day away.

Laura calls in the evening, asking how his first full moon alone went.

“It was- different,” Derek admits. “I missed you guys first. I wasn’t as anchored as I usually am. But it went fine. I went out in the preserve-”

“Did anyone see you?” Laura interrupts, Derek can hear the slight panic in her voice and he understands her, they cannot be seen by any human, but he’s also slightly annoyed at that. He’s been born a werewolf too, he knows just as well as she does that they have to be careful.

“Of course not,” he scoffs.

“I just…” Laura sounds regretful, as if she realized her own mistake. “I miss you, Der. It’s-”

“I miss you too,” he sighs.

It’s true, he does.

Sometimes he thinks of leaving, going back to New York, but there he’d always had the feeling that he didn’t really belong, like he was constantly lost. He might not be able to find his way around all the streets in Beacon Hills yet, but he’s never felt as lost as he did in New York. He feels like he’s found a place where he belongs. Even if he and Jordan don’t root for the same baseball team and even if Jordan – and the rest of Beacon Hills – is obsessed with lacrosse, a sport no one outside Beacon County even knows about, Derek enjoys spending time with his colleague outside work. Jordan has nagged him about going to see the high school lacrosse team play. Apparently the sheriff’s son is on the team and Derek first thought that Jordan never missed a game to get brownie points from his boss, but it turns out Jordan doesn’t care at all about the boss’ son, who hasn’t even played in a single game.

“I like it here though,” Derek admits. He doesn’t want his sisters to nag him about coming back to New York. If they nagged him enough he’d probably give in. Maybe that’s what he wants a few months into the future, but now he wants to stay here and live on his own.

“I’m glad,” Laura says, and she sounds like it too.

“So tell me, have you met someone special?”

“I’ve barely been here a month!” Derek says, trying to sound scandalized and to not think about Bambi eyes. He’s glad Laura can’t see him through the phone because if she did, she’d definitely notice his slight smile as he thinks about Bambi.

 

If anyone asked, Derek would deny it to his grave that he’s looking for Bambi – the kid with the huge, brown eyes. He’s not actively searching for him, but he might look at the people around him in the grocery store more closely and he might look for a blue jeep when he drives around on patrol or on his way home. It’s surprising that the next time he sees him he’s not even looking for him. He’s just finished the graveyard shift and is stopping by the coffee shop to get himself a latte and a scone when someone walks straight into him – or he walks into them, he guesses he’s to blame too. The latte is warm and wet as it runs down his chest. He’s glad it’s not a black coffee, it’d been hotter, and also that he has quick healing, his skin barely even reddens before it pales again.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!” someone cries out and the first thing Derek sees when he looks up from the coffee and milk mix that’s running down his green deputy shirt, is big, brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes. The pink mouth is opened, inviting, and the cheeks are flushed. Derek wonders if they’d be flushed in other situations too.

“Hi,” Derek says dumbly. Bambi’s mouth snap shut.

“Hey, hi.”

Derek’s given a slight smile and he smiles back, forgetting about the coffee on his shirt and skin.

“I’m sorry,” Bambi says again, his voice back to normal. “I’ll pay for the cleaning.”

“Don’t worry, I can clean myself.”

Bambi’s lips twitch.

“Oh, you can, can you?”

Derek doesn’t know how, but he makes it sound dirty. He tries to come up with something to say when someone thrusts a towel at his chest.

“Here,” the barista says and Derek remembers the coffee.

“Thanks,” he says and dabs at his shirt.

“Let me buy you whatever you’re here for as a sorry.”

Derek hands the towel back to the barista, barely even sparing her a glance and he can hear her mutter something but he’s too focused on Bambi.

“I didn’t look where I was going,” he admits. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You can buy mine, if I can buy yours,” Bambi smiles and it’s so ridiculous that Derek has to roll his eyes.

“Okay then,” he says after a few moments of silence. Bambi gives him a blinding smile and heads up to the counter. Derek follows him and orders his latte and scones.

“Your latte is on the house,” the barista tells Bambi and Derek scowls at her for taking away his opportunity to buy Bambi something. He buys Bambi a blueberry scone instead.

“Thanks,” Bambi says and it’s quite easy for them to drift over to two armchairs in one of the corners.

“What are you doing up this early in the morning?” Derek asks, trying to fish for details about Bambi. Maybe he’s older than he looks, maybe he’s already in college or working.

“Our coffee maker’s broken and my school has some silly rule about not serving coffee.”

He makes a face and Derek nods in agreement. He’s a high schooler then, no college would ever get away with not serving coffee.

“You’re a senior?” Derek asks, prays silently for the answer to be a positive one.

Bambi nods and Derek hopes this means he’s over eighteen. But then again, if he’s only seventeen he’ll turn eighteen soon. Derek can wait.

He shakes his head. What is he thinking? The kid is still too young for him. Even if he’s eighteen, there’s a five year difference. An eighteen year old doesn’t want the same thing as a twenty-three year old.

“The college applications are the worst,” Bambi says and then goes into a long rant about how much they suck. Derek listens and can’t help but smile. Bambi talks with his whole body, his hands are never really still. Derek finds him fascinating.

Suddenly Bambi startles and stares at the clock on the wall.

“Shit, is that the time? I need to go but see you around, yeah?”

Derek nods. Bambi gets up from the chair, almost face planting on the floor as his long legs get tangled in the straps of his bag, but he manages to stay upright. Bambi takes a few steps away from Derek, then stops, hesitates before turning back again. His cheeks are slightly flushed.

“Can I get your number?” he asks and Derek’s own heart speeds up. He nods and then recites his phone number as Bambi adds it to his phone with fast fingers.

“Okay. See ya!”

Bambi leaves and Derek watches him until he’s out of the door and he can no longer see him. He tries not to smile too widely as he finishes the last of his coffee and then leaves to go home and get some sleep.

When he wakes up there are two texts from the same, unknown number.

 **Unknown:** Hi. Here’s my number too. I thought maybe you wanted it.

 **Unknown:** Or maybe you didn’t give your real number and this is someone else’s? 

The time for the last text being sent was five hours ago. Derek wonders if Bambi’s freaking out right now because Derek hasn’t answered. He hopes not. Just in case he sends the number a text after saving it under the name Bambi.

 **Derek:** This is Derek. Sorry for not replying earlier, I’ve been working nights so I crashed as soon as I got home. 

He tries not to feel giddy about it, tries to act like a normal human being, an adult human being, and not nervously check his phone every other second.

He fails at that, and then smiles at the reply.

 **Bambi:** I'm so glad you responded. 

 **Bambi:** And that you gave me your real number.

 **Derek:** I wouldn't dream of giving you a false number. 

He panics for only a moment until he gets a winking smiley in return.

 **Bambi:** okay, truth time: who would win in a fight: superman or batman?

 **Bambi:** your answer will determine if this friendship is worth pursuing ;) 

Derek must answer it right because Bambi continues sending him texts well until past Derek's usual bedtime. Derek doesn't even care. He lies in his bed, grinning like a madman at his phone.

 

Under the next few days Derek and Bambi continue sending each other texts. Bambi complains about school and Derek about annoying citizens he has to deal with. Bambi seems to have a lot of understanding about Derek's work. Derek doesn't know if maybe he's just watched many police shows on TV or if it's something else.

Derek’s been trying to man up the courage to ask Bambi – he really should ask for the guy’s real name – if he’d want to see Derek again, but Derek’s never been very brave. The next time he meets Bambi, it's at the sheriff’s station. Derek’s manning the front desk by his own for the first time. It’s a slow day, mostly people wanting to file complaints about their neighbors. One woman swears her neighbor took her cat. Derek tries to convince her that the cat could have ran away, been hit by a car or even taken by some wild animal; they do have mountain lions roaming around in the woods, he tells her. Derek might know that no mountain lions have been in the woods for months, their smell is all but gone from it, but he doesn’t tell the woman this. He hears her mumbling about arranging a funeral for her lost, feline friend when she leaves.

It’s been slow for almost an hour after that. If one of the other deputies is at the front desk, they would have had things to do, but as Derek’s new to this he doesn’t really have much else to do than eavesdrop on conversations held in other rooms and stare at the door. He’s almost fallen asleep, his eyes half-closed, when Bambi stumbles in.

“Hey, Derek,” he skids up to the front desk. “How’s work going?”

“Hi,” Derek sits up straight and is flooded by the smell of Bambi – earth and musk and something Derek would describe as warmth, even though he has no idea how that’s even a smell. “It’s good. How are you?”

Bambi leans against the front desk – or tries to, his elbow misses the edge and he flails as he almost falls to the floor but he manages to keep himself upright and leans both elbows against the desk instead.

“Heh,” he says breathlessly, his cheeks pinking up and Derek can hear his heart beating faster from the scare. Derek himself rose from his chair; to do what he doesn’t know, maybe try to catch Bambi bridal style? Their faces are much closer to each other now. Bambi smells amazing. His eyes are huge this close, they look almost gold or honey in the light. His lips are pink and his mouth opened. It would be so easy to just lean forward and kiss him.

“Stiles,” an exasperated voice says. Derek and Bambi both startle, Bambi almost toppling over again and Derek’s desk chair rolls away as the back of his legs hit it.

“Sheriff,” Derek says because even though Sheriff Stilinski asks all his employees to call him John, Derek’s not there yet.

The Sheriff gives him an exasperated look, not much unlike the one he’d previously aimed at Bambi. The Sheriff then turns to Bambi again.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? No, ‘good to see you’ or ‘I’ve missed you’?” Bambi asks, his hand coming up to his chest in a mock-show of surprise, or something. Derek notices that Bambi’s fingers are very long and his forearms much more muscular than his body would suggest.

The Sheriff rolls his eyes. There’s an obvious comfort between the two of them, Derek wonders what their story is, how Bambi can be so at ease with the town’s sheriff, maybe he’s a friend of the sheriff’s son? The son is in high school too, Derek thinks he’s heard.

“Come here,” the Sheriff sighs and when Bambi sidles up to him, he grabs his neck in an affectionate manner as he leads Bambi down the hall to his room.

“See you, Derek,” Bambi calls back over his shoulder before they round a corner.

Derek can hear Bambi talk about his friend Scott and the asthma attack he’d had earlier today during lacrosse practice. Their voices disappear as they enter the sheriff’s office and close the door. Bambi hasn’t mentioned lacrosse in their texts, but if Scott, Bambi’s best friend and whom Bambi has mentioned at least once a day through texts, plays then Derek thinks it’s likely that Bambi plays too. He thinks of finally letting Jordan convince him to come to a lacrosse game. Jordan will probably be thrilled.

Derek’s shift ends before Bambi comes back from the sheriff’s office. Derek tries taking as long as possible leaving but it doesn’t matter, at last he has to leave without seeing Bambi again.

It’s later in the evening that he realizes the sheriff had called Bambi Stiles. It’s a ridiculous name, but not as ridiculous as Bambi. Though Bambi had at least been describing something about the guy, what the hell is a Stiles?

 

It takes Jordan two long days before he asks Derek if he wants to go to the lacrosse game on Friday. Derek might have already decided he’s going but Jordan doesn’t need to know that.

“Come on,” Jordan says as Derek makes a face at the mentioned of lacrosse. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“I highly doubt that,” Derek mutters – and it’s not even a lie, he doesn’t understand the appeal of lacrosse at all. He hadn’t even heard of it before moving back to Beacon Hills and he had to google it after three different colleagues – not counting Jordan’s ten minutes rant about it – had mentioned it.

“You need to get out more,” Jordan says and it’s such a Laura thing to say that Derek fears his new colleague has been talking to his sister. He wouldn’t put it past Laura to check up his colleagues and call them and harass them about Derek.

“I _am_ out,” Derek motions with his hot dog at the green grass in the park where they’re eating today’s lunch.

Jordan rolls his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” he sighs dejectedly and then lights up. “If you come with me this once and hate it I won’t nag again.”

It’s the perfect opportunity, Derek knows it.

“Okay,” he sighs, trying to sound dejected and not like he’d been planning to agree to it all along.

“Great,” Jordan smiles. “We can meet one hour before at my place and paint our faces!”

Derek gives him a horrified look. He is _not_ painting his face. Not even for Stiles, who might not even be playing lacrosse and might not even be there. The likeability that Stiles won’t be there if Scott is, is quite small though.

“I’m kidding,” Jordan laughs, almost dropping his hot dog as he laughs so hard. “You should’ve seen your face.”

Derek glares at him and Jordan smiles toothily.

 

When Derek texts Stiles later in the evening he tells Stiles that Jordan bullied him into coming to the lacrosse game on Friday. He’s fishing for details, in a poor way. He’s glad his boss doesn’t know about it.

 **Stiles:** Awesome! I’m playing too!

Derek smiles at the screen and thinks that moving o Beacon Hills was quite a good idea.

 

The day of the game Derek is oddly nervous. He tells himself at least five times during the day that he is not in high school. And yet he feels like it. He’s excited to see Stiles – the guy has had a test earlier in the day and has been studying like crazy the last few days, which means their texting has been put to a minimum. They have still texted each other daily, Stiles asking questions that Derek can’t answer about ancient Rome and Derek researching ancient Rome so he can ask Stiles things and help him study.

Jordan picks him up outside his apartment building before going to the game. Derek said he could take his own car, he does know where the high school is, but according to Jordan the parking lot will be swamped and it will be hard enough to find an open spot for just one car. Derek thinks he’s exaggerating, how many people can come to a high school lacrosse game anyway?

Turns out, Derek’s the one who’s wrong. The parking lot is filled with cars and people, and Jordan has to park along the road two blocks away. It’s not even a legal parking, but Jordan just shrugs and says that no one cares, everyone’s at the game anyway.

“As a deputy you might want to try set a good example for the kids,” Derek mutters just loud enough for Jordan to hear.

“Ah, don’t be such a spoilsport,” he chirps, bumping his shoulder against Derek’s.

It only takes them a couple minutes to walk to the high school. The lacrosse pitch is at the side of the school, large stands by the side of the pitch that people already are filling up.  The air is quite chilly and Derek puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he trails after Jordan in search of a good seat.

“Jordan! Derek!” Someone calls and Derek spots the Sheriff first and tugs at Jordan’s arm as they make their way past other people to the seats next to the Sheriff and a dark-haired woman. Derek wonders if she’s the Sheriff’s wife, but he gets a whiff of her flowery perfume and he doesn’t recognize it; had she been the sheriff’s wife, the sheriff’s clothes would have smelled of her perfume.

“Melissa, this is Derek, our latest recruit,” the Sheriff introduces Derek, who shakes Melissa’s hand. “Derek, Melissa is a friend of mine. Our sons are best friends.”

“Inseparable since they met in freshman year,” Melissa smiles. “How are you, Jordan? How’s your mother’s knee?”

Melissa and Jordan start talking about Jordan’s mother’s knee and her upcoming surgery. Derek squints out at the field. There are several players in red, their numbers and names in white on their backs. Derek spots a Stilinski with number twenty-four and supposes it’s the Sheriff’s son. He tries to spot Stiles, but can’t see him as they’re all wearing their helmets. Even through the noise of the crowd, Derek can hear the coach of the Beacon Hills’ team giving his team one last pep talk. Derek recognizes it vaguely, it could be from a movie of some kind. Some players trot to the bench on the side while others make it out onto the field.

“Why is my son on the field?” The sheriff asks suddenly.

“He’s on the team,” Melissa replies.

“My son’s on the team! He’s on the field! Yeah!” the Sheriff then yells, standing up and clapping his hands.

Derek shares an amused look with Jordan.

“He’s never played before,” Jordan says, “always on the bench.”

“Good for him,” Derek says and then the game starts and further conversation is put on hold for watching the game.

Derek would never admit it, but it is exciting. The other team is good, but on the Beacon Hills team there’s especially one kid called Whittemore that’s quite good. The goalie is quite good too, from what Derek can tell. The Sheriff’s kid makes a few mistakes in the beginning but then he’s starting to get the hang of it and even makes a few goals himself.

Derek finds himself cheering and applauding with the rest of the audience, the excitement is contagious. Beacon Hills ends up winning and while Derek thought they’d head back to Jordan’s car, Jordan herds him down towards the field after the Sheriff and Melissa. The Sheriff is hugging his son and Derek tries to spot Stiles among the other players. He hears Stiles’ voice first, looking around and finally his eyes fall on Stiles’ excited face. It’s red from exertion and his brown eyes are sparkling as he waves his hands, describing one of the goals he scored. Derek feels himself freeze as he realizes who Stiles’ audience is.

“I’m so proud of you, son,” the Sheriff says, hugging his son again.

Hugging _Stiles_ again.

Stiles’ smile is huge and his eyes dart around, falling onto Derek who stares back at him.

“Derek! I’m so glad you came!” he says and makes his way over to Derek, hugging him.

His scent is the same, only stronger and sweatier. Derek wants to lick the sweat off his neck.

Oh, god.

“Did you see where I feinted right and went left, and then _I scored_?”

“Yeah, I saw,” Derek answers faintly.

He can’t believe he didn’t realize that they share some of the same scents, that the warmth and safety he’s smelled are the same with both of them.

Stiles is Sheriff Stilinski’s son. Stiles is his boss’ son. Derek has a crush on his boss’ almost underage son.

Derek’s going to hell.

He has no idea how he manages to continue the conversation with Stiles and the others, all he can think of is how screwed he is (and not in the good way). He and Jordan only stay with Stiles and the others for a few minutes. Derek gets introduced to Scott, whose mom was Melissa who sat next to the Sheriff in the stands.

“Admit it, you liked it,” Jordan says as they walk back to the car.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Derek admits.

His mind isn’t really on the conversation though and Jordan seems to catch up on it and stays quiet for most of the car ride to Derek’s apartment. Derek considers calling one of his sisters but he knows both of them would be insufferable. After they would’ve had died of laughter.

Laura’s been nagging him about finding someone and Derek might have hinted that there was someone he was kind of interested in. She can never know who it is. It was bad enough before, when the only secret was Stiles’ age, the fact that Stiles is Derek’s boss’ son makes it even worse.

Derek sighs and prepares himself for a sleepless night.

 

Stiles continues to text Derek and Derek tries to answer as curtly as he can, but Stiles is funny and smart and Derek _wants_ to text him all the time.

Derek is quite busy with his own personal life so when he first notices the scent of another werewolf he’s not sure how long it’s been there. He goes to roam the forest in search for it, but he never finds anyone. He wouldn’t mind getting to know another werewolf in this town. Werewolves from different packs can get along well until there’s talk about marriage. When marrying a werewolf from another pack one of the parties needs to change pack and most werewolves don’t want to change packs. Derek dated a werewolf for a while in New York, and even if they weren’t anywhere near marriage, Jason hinted at Derek joining his pack instead. Jason’s pack was larger, almost thirty individuals while Derek’s only consisted of himself and his two sisters. It was customary that the werewolf from the smaller pack joined the larger one instead but Derek would rather die than join anyone else’s pack that the one he’d grew up in. It was over when Jason realized this. For Derek it had been over for quite some time already.

The first real trace except scent from the other werewolf comes in the form of a dead deer. It’s not really the sheriff’s job, but Derek is in the car with the Sheriff when they pass a frenzied woman. The sheriff pulls over, of course, and when he asks what’s wrong the woman points to the woods, too scared to even talk. The scent of blood hits Derek and he hurries through the underbrush until he comes across the deer. It’s dead, huge claw marks in the side of its body.

“Well, call one of the town’s hunters so they can dispose of the body,” the Sheriff says and claps Derek’s shoulder. “Most likely a mountain lion that did it.”

Derek doesn’t say that there hasn’t been any mountain lions near the deer, that it reeks of another werewolf or that the claw marks are larger than those from a mountain lion.

He calls his sister when he gets home that night.

“Some werewolves are a bit more rogue than others,” Laura says, sounding unconcerned, when he tells her about it. “Unless it starts chasing people or something I don’t think you need to worry. If someone had seen this werewolf I’m pretty sure you would have heard about it at the station, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees with a sigh.

Laura’s right, probably. Derek knows some werewolves like to let loose and chase and kill animals sometimes. Derek’s chased animals too, he’s a predator, of course he likes the chase, but killing something? That’s something he would never in his right mind do.

The full moon’s in a couple of nights and even if Laura tells him to not worry about it, he does. On the night of the full moon a werewolf is most likely to lose control and Derek’s worried this one will do just that and hurt someone. Unlike the other full moons Derek’s decided to work that evening, just so he can get to the scene quickly if something should happen. He’s playing Othello with Jordan when they get the call from the Sheriff to meet them in the woods. It’s an all hands on deck situation and Jordan drives there with blue lights flashing. The scent of a werewolf – an alpha, Derek realizes – hits him as soon as he steps out of the car. The Sheriff meets them. He looks worried, but his eyes are alert.

“We… We’ve found the lower half of a woman’s body,” he tells them and Jordan mutters an “oh, fuck” just loud enough for both the Sheriff and Derek to hear. The Sheriff nods in agreement to his deputy’s words. “We need to find the other half, if there is one, before anyone else does.”

There are search dogs there and the woods are soon filled with deputies, people have been called in from the counties closest to Beacon Hills. Derek and Jordan are ordered to go with the Sheriff and follow him with their flashlights. Derek tries tracking the scent of the alpha, but it’s hard with all the humans and dogs there. He gets a whiff of it every now and then but as soon as he takes a step in what he thinks is the right direction, it’s gone.

Derek hears the breaking of a twig right before he recognizes the scent that hits him. He turns to his side and pounces through the bush, grabbing Stiles’ shirt before the kid has time to get away.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Derek snaps at him, worry mixed with the full moon making his eyes almost shift blue. He hasn’t had this bad control over himself since he was a teenager.

“Sorry,” Stiles yelps and tugs himself away from Derek. “I heard on the radio-”

“Stiles!” The Sheriff yells and tugs his son up from the ground rather roughly by his shirt before he extends his hand towards Derek to help him up. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted-”

“Derek, take him back to the car!” the Sheriff orders, “and wait there until I get back.”

“But-” both Derek and Stiles start to protest but the Sheriff glares them into silence.

“Was Scott there with you?” the Sheriff asks Stiles who shakes his head. “Good.”

He motions for Derek and Stiles to leave and Derek sighs. He would really like to be out there with the other, trying to find the alpha.

“Come on,” Derek mutters to Stiles who sighs in defeat as they trek back to the car. “What were you thinking?”

Stiles glares at him.

“Jeez, you sound like my dad,” he mutters. “I just wanted to see the body.”

Derek kind of wants to smack Stiles in the head, he settles for glaring.

“Trust me, you don’t want to see a dead body.”

“But-”

“No,” Derek says and Stiles glares at him but doesn’t say anything.

“I thought you were my friend,” Stiles mutters after a while.

He doesn’t sound angry anymore, mostly defeated. Derek almost stops at the words. He never meant to make Stiles this angry with him.

“Look,” he says, quite glad for the darkness that hide his face. “I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt out there. The killer might still be out there,” Is still out there, he thinks to himself, “and… you’re my friend, Stiles.”

“Okay.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything else and Derek doesn’t know what to say either. They sit in silence until the Sheriff comes back. He looks dejected and sad. Derek knows they found the other half.

“Hopefully we can identify her and find her murderer,” he says. “Go home, I’ll see you tomorrow, Derek.”

Derek nods and moves to Jordan’s car instead.

“It was awful,” Jordan tells him and Derek can imagine.

He’s seen a dead body before and that was awful, he can only imagine how awful half a body would be.

 

The next day it’s revealed that the dead woman was Kali Blake. She was from Los Angeles and she doesn’t seem to have any relatives after her wife passed away some months earlier. They have no idea what she was doing in Beacon Hills and Derek doesn’t know if the werewolf killed her for a reason or if she just was at the wrong place at the wrong time. What bothers him even more is the fact that she was cut in half. The autopsy shows that she was already dead when she was cut in half. The official cause of death was a probable mountain lion attacking her and clawing at her throat, but Derek knows that it was a werewolf and it makes his stomach turn. Cutting werewolves in half is something werewolf hunters tend to do; it’s one of the safe ways to kill a werewolf. He has no idea if this is a hunter’s doing or if the werewolf was in control of what it did and was mocking hunters.

Derek doesn’t have to wonder if there are hunters in Beacon Hills for very long. He’s filling up his car at the gas station one evening, close to midnight after his shift when a car stops behind his. He doesn’t pay them much attention, smirking as he fires off a text to Stiles, when he senses the persons from the other car coming up to him. He puts away his phone quickly and turns towards them. There’s three of them, all dressed in dark clothes and they all smell of gun oil and wolfsbane – Derek’s mother was adamant about her children learning to recognize the smell of wolfsbane, the flower that’s lethal for werewolves.

“Derek Hale, right?” the man says and Derek nods warily. “From the Hale pack?”

Derek nods again, straightening and pushing out his chest, hoping that the uniform will be enough for them to not cause a scene.

“I thought they all died,” one of the other says and grins evilly at Derek, clearly knowing that Derek and his sisters are still alive and saying this just to get to Derek.

It works. Derek wants to rip his throat out. The one who talked first, who stands in the middle, gives the other guy a look and the other one closes his mouth. The one in the middle is clearly the leader.

“Did you know Kali Blake was an alpha?” the man in the middle asks and Derek feels his eyebrows rise in surprise.

He knows he shouldn’t show his surprise to those men – those hunters – but he can’t help it. Was she the one whose scent he’d smelled in the forest before the full moon?

“You’re not an alpha, are you, Hale?”

Derek shakes his head, his eyes following the man as he takes a step forward.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Chris Argent.”

Derek growls at him – another thing his body does without his brain approving of it. His eyes flash blue and his fangs prick at his gums.

“Not an alpha,” Argent smiles.

Derek wants to rip his throat out more than he’s ever wanted to hurt anyone before. He knows about the Argents, knows that his family is the reason Derek’s own only consists of himself and his two sisters.

“But blue eyes, not gold.”

Derek glares at him. He wonders what Argent will do, if he would kill Derek here at this gas station. They could probably make it look like someone just stole his car and shot him.

“Who did you kill, huh?” Argent asks and Derek tries not to think of his baby brother’s pained screams and his burnt face, just before Derek hugged him tightly, too tightly, with Cora and Laura on either side of him, crying and howling with the pain of losing everyone except each other.

“There was one person, after the fire, who had crush injuries. Was it you, Hale? Did you really kill your own brother?”

Derek attacks him without thinking, rage and grief making him snap. Argent is quick though, quick and calculating. He blocks Derek’s blow and pushes Derek up against his car.

“I’m not out to kill you, but I wouldn’t hesitate,” Argent says into his ear. Derek clenches his jaw but doesn’t fight to get Argent off. “I’m after the alpha, okay? Just don’t get in my way.”

Argent shoves Derek’s head into the roof of the car before stepping away. Derek straightens himself but doesn’t turn around to watch them walk away. He can hear them getting into their car and drive away. He lets out a shuddering breath when the sound of the car disappears.  He retrieves the nozzle from his car and hangs it up before getting into his car and driving home.

He doesn’t cry about Timmy until he’s home in his shower.

 

The Argents’ appearance at the gas station makes Derek wary of his surroundings, more than the alpha had done.

He goes running through the forest the next day, hoping that he might catch a scent of the alpha, wonders who it is. He doesn’t catch any recent scents from it or anyone else, just from scents from people two nights ago when Kali Blake’s body was found. He’s on his way home when he catches a familiar scent. He treks down a different path and catches up to Stiles. He puts his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles flails and gasps as he turns around. Derek catches him around the waist before he can fall and Stiles’ hands come up to his shoulders to grasp at his Henley.

“Oh, my god, Derek!” Stiles gasps, his heart still beating quickly and his mouth opened.

Derek really wants to kiss him. He feels a smile pull at his lips and Stiles laughs breathlessly.

“I thought you were going to kill me,” Stiles says, seemingly amused at the situation now that the surprise has disappeared.

Derek doesn’t let him go just yet. Doesn’t want to let him go. Ever. Stiles smiles up at him and licks his lips. Derek’s eyes flick down to them as the pink tongue darts out. He doesn’t know if Stiles does it consciously in an attempt to seduce Derek (if he is, it’s working), but he thinks Stiles might have done it unconsciously. Derek can hear Stiles’ heart beat faster, his scent changes slightly, and it takes Derek a moment to realize what the new smell means, but when he does he feels heady with the scent. Arousal. He looks up to Stiles’ eyes, they’re half-closed. His pink, plush lips fall open, inviting Derek in. Waiting to be kissed. Expecting it.

Derek doesn’t want to disappoint. He closes the distance between their lips and swallows the low whimper Stiles emits right from his lips. Stiles’ hands that previously had just been on Derek’s shoulders start to move, tangling in Derek’s hair, pulling his head closer. Stiles kisses with his whole being, his whole soul, and Derek loves every second of it. Stiles emits low groans and moans as their tongues meet and when Derek tugs his lips in between his teeth.

Derek’s breathless when they break the kiss. He plants one last kiss on Stiles’ lips and then buries his face against his neck, kissing him softly. Stiles leans his head back, giving Derek more space, and Derek wants to howl with joy from having someone present themselves like this for him.

Suddenly a new, familiar yet unknown scent hits him. He freezes. It’s in Stiles’ clothes, from someone Stiles knows and spends a lot of time with.

“Scott.”

He’s not aware he’s saying the name out loud. Stiles makes an indignant sound and pushes Derek away from him. Derek feels off-center and frowns at Stiles, who glares at him.

“Your friend. Scott,” Derek says. “I need his number.”

Stiles’ mouth fall open before it snaps shut with an audible click.

“I can’t believe you!” he exclaims before turning and walking away.

Derek watches his back for just a moment before he hurries after.

“Stiles, what-?”

“Leave me alone, Derek! I never want to see you. Never again. Okay?”

Derek stops dead in his tracks. He has no idea what just happened. He swallows hard. He wants to run after Stiles, fix things, but first he needs to deal with Stiles’ friend. Scott. Who is, apparently, a werewolf.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've written this before the first chapter, but I forgot (This has also been added to the notes of the first chapter):  
> As this is based on canon, a lot of the events from season one and two happen, maybe not in the right order though. I've also taken some of the dialogue.  
> I must also warn you that this story isn't really Scott-friendly. This further explanation about this might be considered a spoiler for later chapters so read only if you feel you might be uncomfortable with Scott not being the all good hero: There won't be any Scott bashing per se but in this Scott will be made responsible and shunned for his actions - which are the same as in canon.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta Beth.
> 
> Also, did I mention this is my 50th work here on AO3? Amazing, isn't it?

Derek hasn’t really prepared for what to say to Scott. He only knows he needs to speak to him. He highly doubts that Scott is the alpha, but he might have been bitten. If that’s the case then Scott needs guidance, someone to help him deal with his new powers.

What Derek is not prepared for when he rings the doorbell at the McCall household is Scott opening the door, glaring at him, and then shutting the door again. Derek stares at the door for a moment before he rings again.

“Scott, I need to talk to you,” he calls inside.

Even if Scott is a newly-bitten werewolf, Derek knows he’ll be able to hear him even if he’s at the other side of the house.

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Scott calls back, loud enough for a human to hear.

Which at least answers the question Derek had whether Scott was a new werewolf or not.

“I know you’re a werewolf,” Derek says in a low voice.

He feels rather smug when he hears something crash inside the house and then the quick footsteps of Scott coming towards the door again.

“How did you know?” Scott bites at him as he throws the door opened again.

“Because I’m one too.”

Derek ignores Scott’s rather high-pitched squeak and continues, “You got bitten, didn’t you?”

“It was a wolf,” Scott says. “First I had a wound and then it just disappeared and I realized I could hear better and smell better.”

Derek nods.

“You have to learn how to control your powers now. I’ll help you. We’re brothers now.”

“Stiles is-”

“Do you think Stiles-” can help by googling stuff as good as a born wolf can, is what Derek wants to say, but Scott’s jaw clenches and he shoves Derek out the door before Derek has time to finish the sentence.

“Scott, you need my help.”

“Screw you!” is what he gets in reply, which both surprises and confuses Derek, he has no idea what he’s done to make Scott dislike him so. “I don’t need anything from you.”

Derek tries talking to Scott for some time after that, but then he hears Scott put on music and realizes that he will never get through to the werewolf now.

He calls Laura when he gets home.

“What’s up, baby bro?”

“The alpha bit someone,” Derek says. “A teenager.”

“Is he okay? Did he change?”

Derek nods before remembering that Laura can’t see him.

“Yeah, he’s okay. He’s a werewolf.”

He makes a pause, wondering what to say. Laura waits him out.

“He refuses my help though.”

“What? Why?”

Laura sounds as confused as Derek feels. He sighs and rubs at his forehead as he falls backwards onto the couch.

“Beats me.”

Laura makes a thoughtful noise.

“Well, it’s almost a month until the next full moon,” she says and Derek rolls his eyes at her cheerfulness.

“But if he’s new he won’t be able to control himself at all. It doesn’t matter if it’s the full moon or not.”

Laura makes another thoughtful noise and it sounds like she’s chewing on something, probably gummy bears; she has a strange obsession with them.

“Try again tomorrow,” Laura says, “it’s too late for you to go there now.”

“What if he hurts someone?”

“He’s not your responsibility,” Laura tries and Derek sighs again.

She’s wrong. Scott _is_ Derek’s responsibility, because no one else in this town will be able to help him. It doesn’t matter if Stiles is brilliant at researching; no amount of researching can help a werewolf get control over themselves.

“Try again tomorrow,” Laura says again and Derek sighs in defeat.

“Yeah, alright.”

“Good. Now, tell me, isn’t there _anyone_ in Beacon Hills that’s caught your eye?”

Derek thinks of Stiles, of wide, amber eyes with long, dark lashes, and a pink, opened mouth, waiting to be kissed. And Derek did get to kiss it.

“No, no one,” Derek answers Laura’s question a bit too late.

He can hear Laura stuff a handful of probably-gummy bears into her mouth before she answers, her voice a bit muffled by the gummy bears.

“I can hear that you’re lying,” she says, “but we’ve got a new technician at my job and he’s _gorgeous._ ”

The next ten minutes Derek spends with his phone against his ear, only half-listening to Laura describing their new technician, while he stares up into the ceiling thinking about Stiles and his lips.

What the fuck did he do to make Stiles so angry at him?

He wonders if maybe Stiles didn’t know he was into guys and it became too much. Derek can relate to that. When he first realized that he kind of had a crush on one of his classmates in middle school, he freaked out too. He’d only had crushes on girls before that and to realize that David was kind of hot was a bit disconcerting. He talked to his dad though, who said that it wasn’t wrong to like both boys and girls. Or only boys or only girls.

“Or you can,” Derek remembers his father saying to him, “like nothing at all. Some people don’t like either boys or girls, and that’s okay too.”

Derek wonders if the Sheriff has given his son this speech. Derek decides that he should try to talk to Stiles again and see if he can understand why the boy reacted the way he did.

 

Derek doesn’t really know how to act around the Sheriff anymore. Before it was only the fact that he _wanted_ to kiss his boss’ son, now that he has he feels that something has changed.

There’s also the fact that a rogue alpha is running around biting and killing people.

And the Argents.

Derek would be much less stressed out if he just had one of those problems.

“So, wanna tell me what’s bothering you?” Jordan asks when they’re at lunch.

They’re at a diner in one of the booths along the windows. There aren’t many other patrons there and those who are are far enough away that they won’t be able to hear what Derek says. He sighs. Contemplating telling Jordan about Stiles. It’s the only problem he _can_ tell his colleague about.

“I’ve been talking to someone,” he says and Jordan gets a knowing smirk on his face. “A guy.”

He watches Jordan’s reaction closely; he barely reacts at all, only a slight raise of an eyebrow in surprise. Derek’s glad he’s not jumping up from his seat, proclaiming that Derek’s the devil or something.

“And…?” Jordan pushes when Derek doesn’t say much more.

“And we kissed. Yesterday.”

“Way to go!” Jordan says, raising his hand for a high five.

His hand is lowered to the table slowly when Jordan realizes Derek isn’t in the mood for high fives or celebration.

“Not way to go?” Jordan asks and Derek shakes his head.

“He ran away after. I have no idea what happened.”

“Maybe he’s not ready for a relationship?”

“He could’ve just said so. We’ve been texting a lot and I think he’s been flirting with me, but… I don’t know.”

Jordan makes a comforting sound.

“Here, you can have my fries,” he offers, which makes Derek laugh and shove the fries back.

“Keep your fries, you’ve been molesting all of them. Who knows where your fingers have been?”

Jordan laughs at that and Derek feels his spirit lifted slightly.

“If he doesn’t want you, it’s his loss,” Jordan tells him.

It feels like this is something that’s been written quite a lot in Cosmopolitan and those other girl magazines Laura likes to read. It makes Derek feels slightly better though.

“So, is it someone I know?” Jordan asks with such a faked disinterest that Derek knows he’s dying to know.

He rolls his eyes and tries to come up with something to say.

“No, you don’t,” he settles for at last.

“Come on! You haven’t lived here that long, there’s no way you know someone that I don’t.”

“I know this guy.”

Derek realizes that he might sound a bit like a petulant child but Jordan seems to find it amusing so he doesn’t feel like stopping just yet.

“Is it illegal?”

“No!”

Derek feels his cheek heat some because even if it isn’t _actually_ illegal, it’s not that far from.

“Is it someone you shouldn’t date? Is he married?”

“No,” Derek says. “Come on, we have to get back to the car.”

Jordan sighs and throws his napkin over his plate of ketchup stains.

He continues to ask Derek questions about Stiles – without knowing it’s him, of course – during their patrol.

“Is he a stripper?”

“Is there even a strip club here?”

“No, you’re right.”

 

“Is it someone on the force? Because while it might be a pain in the ass if you should break up, it’s still allowed.”

“I know that, but no.”

 

“Is it the Sheriff? He’s not gay, is he?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s been married to a woman.”

“There’s a thing called bisexuality, you know.”

“I know that. _I’m_ bisexual.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that a man who’s been with a woman should suddenly be interested in a fine, young man as yourself?”

 

“Come on,” Jordan whines as Derek parks the car in the garage.

Jordan’s been nagging him the whole afternoon. It’s been fun, Derek can admit that, because Jordan has had some pretty funny ideas to why Derek won’t admit who it is.

“It’s not like it’s your boss’ son or anything.”

Derek opens his mouth to agree with him, that it’s not the Sheriff’s son, but nothing comes out.

“Oh, boy,” Jordan gasps as he stares at Derek. “Stiles? Seriously? He kissed you? Seriously?”

“I-”

Derek feels all the air leave him as he sags against the seat.

“Yeah,” he finally admits.

“And he left?” Jordan asks.

He seems to be having quite a hard time to believe that something’s going on between Derek and Stiles. Or has gone on. Whatever.

“Yeah, he left,” Derek says and Jordan makes a sad face at him.

“Why?” Jordan asks, sounding almost as heartbroken as Derek feels.

“I don’t know.”

Derek rubs his face. Jordan pats his shoulder.

“That sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees. “Yeah, it does.”

They get out of the car and Derek goes to hang the car keys in a key cabinet that’s locked with a code. Jordan follows him and leans against the wall as Derek enters the code and puts away the keys.

“I don’t think it’s because you’re a guy,” Jordan says and Derek makes an inquisitive noise to make him elaborate. “I think he might just have freaked out that it was you.”

“Gee, thanks, now I feel better,” Derek snorts and Jordan bumps his shoulder as they make their way to their own cars outside.

“No, hear me out. You’re older than him, and quite easy on the eye, so maybe that’s why he’s freaking out?”

Derek shrugs. He honestly has no idea why Stiles left and the whole thing is starting to give him a headache. He knows he should focus on the problem with Scott and the alpha, but Stiles seems to have nestled into his mind, taken a front row and refuses to leave.

“Try to talk to him again in a couple of days,” Jordan suggests as they get to their cars.

Derek hums in agreement and they wave goodbye to each other as they drive away in opposite directions.

He goes for a run when he gets home. His body feels restless, thrumming with energy. He hopes he’ll meet Stiles again, but he’s got no such luck.

It’s probably for the best. Derek doesn’t know what he should say anyway.

 

Derek’s running past the high school when the sound of laughter alerts him. Without stopping his jog, he looks around and spots Stiles and Scott out on the lacrosse field. Derek stops to watch them. They seem to be practicing. Scott’s in the goal and Stiles throws balls at him. Only… Derek frowns. Scott doesn’t seem to even try to catch any of the balls that fly towards him; he just lets them hit him, in the face, the chest and some – ow – in the crotch. Derek can see Scott’s eyes turning to gold but he stands his ground and Derek’s surprised to see that they shift back to brown after a while. Instead of mauling Stiles, which would have been understandable if he did, he managed to control it and shift back to human. Huh.

“Okay, we’re done for today,” Stiles announces and Derek jogs away, hoping none of them saw him.

 

Derek doesn’t see Stiles or Scott for a few days after that, but he’s on high alert should he realize that Scott was about to hurt someone even if he seemed in control when Stiles lobbed lacrosse balls at him. He’s forgotten all about any real lacrosse until Jordan asks if he’s coming on tonight’s game.

“You know Stiles’ friend, Scott? He’s gotten amazing.”

Derek knows why that is.

“Coach told me when I met him the other day in the grocery store. He’s never seen anyone move like that.”

Because no werewolf with half a brain would show their power like that for a stupid sport.

“He’s thinking of making Scott co-captain. He seems to have outgrown his asthma, too.”

Yeah, that happens when you get bitten by a werewolf.

“So, you’re coming?”

“Sure,” Derek decides, if Scott shifts or something during the game Derek’s the only one who will be able to stop him.

 

Derek’s quite a wreck when it’s time for the game. When he and Jordan get to the field he can feel the excitement from the others and it only worsens Derek’s own anxiety.

“Relax,” Jordan says and pats his back. “I’m sure Stiles won’t be mad that you’re here.”

Derek makes a non-committal sound because he hadn’t really given a thought that Stiles would be there. Oh, god, what if Scott hurts Stiles?

“We can sit here,” Derek says and tugs Jordan towards seats close to the field.

“We’ll see better up there,” Jordan points but Derek sits down and Jordan shrugs in defeat before sitting down as well.

“It’ll be fine,” Jordan says and Derek just nods.

The red-and-white team comes out onto the field. Derek’s eyes sweep over them, unsurprisingly finding Stiles first. He sees the exact moment Stiles notices him, his shoulders tensing and he pointedly looks away.

“Ouch,” Jordan mutters from his side and Derek elbows him in the ribs without tearing his gaze away from the team.

He sees Scott in the back, he seems fine, relaxed. Derek hopes he’ll stay that way.

The game starts and Scott is really showing off. He’s jumping over other players, doing stunts that are impossible for someone who hasn’t trained for years. Derek has no idea how Scott can possibly be stupid enough to keep playing and showing off like this to boot.

Scott gets a hard tackle and Derek’s pretty sure he hears something crack and he, along with everyone else, rises from his seat. He’s prepared to run out onto the field, to stop Scott from shifting and keep everyone safe. Stiles arrives first to Scott.

“Stand back!” Stiles throws his hands up to keep the others away. “He just lost his breath, he’ll be fine.”

It’s a lie, but people don’t know this. Everyone else relax, some in the audience sit down, the other players watch from a distance. Derek’s not ready to relax just yet though. He hears Scott growl, a low, animalistic sound and he knows that Scott is shifted, albeit hidden from view by his helmet and gloves.

“Come on, Scotty,” Stiles whispers. “Keep control.”

In some way it miraculously seems to work. Scott stops growling and then he moves, gets up and waves at the audience. His eyes are his usual brown color instead of the beta gold Derek knows they are when he’s shifted.

“Good job,” Stiles says and claps his friend on his shoulder.

Derek lets out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding and sits down slowly.

“It almost seemed as if his leg was broken,” Jordan says. “It was at such an odd angle.”

“Yeah, it was probably because we’re so far away,” Derek lies just to so Jordan won’t get suspicious.

The game starts up again and Scott continues to show off. Derek wonders what the hell the kid is thinking. He’s going to have to talk to him sooner rather than later. Even if Scott might have learned how to control himself on his own, he has to know that he can’t just show his powers like this. It can expose the whole supernatural world and that would probably mean that all werewolves would be kept in cages.

Or worse.

When the game is over and the players have disappeared to the showers Derek turns to Jordan.

“I need to-”

He gestures vaguely towards the locker room and Jordan’s face clears in understanding.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go wait by the car.”

“I can walk home,” Derek says with a shrug.

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I want to walk home,” Derek says and it’s true.

“Okay. Go get him, tiger.”

Jordan shoves playfully at his shoulder before he leaves along with most of the audience.

Derek snorts at his friend and heads over to wait for Scott – and most likely Stiles – by the entrance to the locker room. He doesn’t have to wait too long before they both emerge, talking excitedly about the game, as if Scott almost didn’t reveal the whole supernatural community with his stupidity.

“Scott,” he greets but his eyes stop on Stiles. “Stiles.”

His brown hair is wet and flat against his forehead. His cheeks are still flushed, probably from the extortion and hot shower. Derek wonders how far down the flush goes, if his chest is flushed too, and if he’d flush in other situations as well.

“What do you want?”

Stiles crosses his arms defensively over his chest, glaring at Derek.

He’s beautiful. He almost takes Derek’s breath away with his beauty.

He manages to tear his eyes away from Stiles and to Scott instead.

“I need to speak to Scott,” he says.

“Anything you want to say you can say in front of me,” Stiles snaps at him and Scott makes a shrug-and-nod gesture.

Derek sighs.

“You have to be more careful, Scott.”

“What? No one saw that he shifted!” Stiles defends his friend.

“Yet,” Derek snaps at him. “No one saw yet. What do you think will happen if people find out, huh? You think they’ll praise you for your strength. No, they’ll lock us away. Either have us like guinea pigs or have us in a zoo. Is that what you want?”

Scott’s jaw clenches, making it seem even more uneven.

“I didn’t think.”

“If you’d accepted my help from the beginning-”

“He learnt control on his own, he doesn’t need your help,” Stiles answers in Scott’s place.

“I was talking to Scott,” Derek growls at him.

Scott shrugs, almost apologetically, at Derek.

“We’ll get by on our own.”

They leave Derek there and Derek watches as they walk away. He sees them stop and talk to a dark-haired girl who smiles shyly at Scott. Derek glares harder at them.

“See you tomorrow, Allison. Come on, Scott,” Stiles says and gets into his blue jeep.

Despite his friend’s words, Scott stays and talks to Allison for a while longer before he joins Stiles in the jeep and they leave. Derek’s just about to turn away when he notices who’s behind the wheel of the car Allison gets into: Chris Argent.

Derek sighs heavily and kicks irritably at a pebble so it rolls across the asphalt. Not only is Scott stupid enough to show off in front of the whole town, he’s gone and gotten himself a crush on a hunter’s daughter.

Derek considers moving away from Beacon Hills and back to New York. He might not have liked it there, but it was a whole lot easier getting through the days.

He starts running after a while, even if he’s not in his actual running gear. He lets the rhythmic sound of his sneakers against the ground calm him as he tries not to think of the stupidity that is Scott McCall.

He’s almost home when he hears a car stop and out of nowhere he feels something painful hit his shoulder and he falls to the ground. He hears a woman laugh. The laughter is familiar and makes his hackle rise in both fear and anger. He growls and feels dizzy as he tries to get up from the ground. Before he’s managed to get up, the car drives off, leaving him alone.

He manages to get up and stumble to his own apartment. He has no idea how he manages to get there without anyone seeing him stumbling around and calling the cops.

Once inside the bathroom he rips off his shirt to see the wound. It’s not much blood, but dark lines go out from the wound.

“Wolfsbane,” he grits out.

He was quite sure it wasn’t a regular bullet. Even if he’s never been shot before, he’s pretty sure his werewolf healing ability would take care of a normal bullet wound quicker. Because of his mother’s training he knows what he needs to do. In theory. He needs to find wolfsbane and burn it before putting it in the wound; it will neutralize the wolfsbane already there.

He needs…

He can barely think straight as he picks up his phone and dials the only person he thinks can help him. Luckily someone picks up instead of ignoring his call.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Stiles snaps.

“Stiles,” Derek manages to get out. “I- I’ve been shot.”

“Then go to the emergency room like any sane person would do,” Stiles bites back, seemingly unconcerned.

“I- It’s not a regular bullet.”

“What? You mean like a silver bullet?”

“No, not silver, wolfsbane.”

“And wolfsbane is…” Stiles asks and Derek can hear him typing away at the keyboard to his laptop.

“It’s lethal to werewolves.”

“What-? You-? You’re dying?”

“No, Stiles, I’m just kidding. Yes, I’m dying!”

“Shit.”

Derek can hear him scramble around in his room.

“Fuck.”

“Stiles, I need you and Scott to get here as soon as possible, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.”

Derek doesn’t know how long it’s been until someone’s banging on his door. He didn’t lock it after he came home so after a few knocks someone opens.

“Derek, you in here?” Stiles calls.

Derek makes a noise and soon both Stiles and Scott are bustling into his room where he’s managed to get onto his bed.

“Dude, he doesn’t look so good,” Scott hisses at Stiles.

He takes a step closer and Derek feels his eyes flashing and a low growl emit from his throat.

“Whoa!” Stiles gasps and Scott backs away hurriedly.

“I need a wolfsbane bullet,” Derek explains. “Scott, the girl… Allison. Her father… he has bullets.”

“What? Why would Allison’s dad have wolfsbane bullets? That’s just crazy, dude!” Stiles exclaims.

“He’s a hunter.”

Derek waves at both boys to be quiet because he can feel himself losing consciousness quickly.

“Just… get a bullet. You’ll recognize them when you smell them, Scott. It smells- it smells really sharp.”

Scott nods, looking pale.

“Go, Scott!”

Stiles pushes his friend towards the door and Scott takes off as if the devil’s behind him. Stiles shuffles his feet awkwardly.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Stay…”

“O-kay.”

Stiles looks around the room.

“You don’t have much furniture for me to sit on,” he says at last.

“Sit on the bed,” Derek grits out and Stiles hesitates. “What?”

“You growled and your eyes flashed when Scott was about to go closer to you. Are you trying to lure me in so you can eat me?”

Derek snorts, despite his pain.

“No, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Stiles takes a step closer and his scent gets clearer. Derek takes a deep breath, feeling himself getting calmer.

“Dude, are you passing out?”

Derek opens his eyes. Stiles has sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. Derek looks at him, drinks in his features. He would love to touch them one last time.

“Dude, you okay?”

Derek manages to glare at Stiles, he would think it’s quite obvious that he’s not.

“Okay, sorry, stupid question, just- don’t die, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Derek grits out as a new wave of pain goes through his body.

“Shit,” Stiles swears and then Derek feels something touching his forehead.

He might moan and lean into the touch some more. It helps grounding him and Stiles’ scent is closer.

“Don’t- don’t leave.”

It’s undignified to beg like this, but he can’t help it.

“I’m not going, okay?” Stiles mumbles and his hand starts to caress Derek’s forehead in a calming pattern. “I’m right here, big guy, not going anywhere.”

Derek must drift off because the next moment Scott stumbles inside, holding a bullet in his hand like it’s a sword. Derek gets up with help from Stiles and grabs the bullet from Scott.

“Anyone’s got a lighter?”

Both teenagers shake their heads.

“Downstairs in the kitchen, second drawer from the left,” he orders Scott, who wastes no time obeying.

“What are you going to do?” Stiles asks worriedly.

“Don’t worry,” Derek gets out and a wave of dizziness hits him, making him sway where he sits.

“Fuck.” Stiles hurries to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him upright.

Scott comes back to the bedroom, handing Derek the lighter. Derek opens the bullet with his claws and pours out the wolfsbane powder on his sheet. He lights it up and then tries to scrape most of it off the sheet. He steadies himself and then presses the burnt powder to the wound.

The pain that had been earlier is nothing to the pain he feels now. He moans and squirms on the bed, or maybe on the floor, the pain is like fire burning through his veins.

As quickly as it started, it stops. Derek feels weary, but otherwise rather okay.

“You okay there, big guy?” Stiles asks and Derek looks up at him, nodding slowly.

Scott helps him up from the floor and onto the bed.

“Who shot you? Did Allison’s dad shoot you?” Scott asks. “Why would he do that?”

“Not her dad. Her aunt. Kate.”

“But why would Allison’s aunt-?”

“Because they’re hunters, Scott! They hunt us.”

Scott looks more shaken about this fact than Derek almost dying from a gunshot wound. Scott opens his mouth, probably to ask more stupid questions, but Stiles shushes at him.

“So, how do we deal with them?” Stiles asks and Derek’s surprised to see him so determined and that he seems to be willing to be in the same room as Derek without glaring at him.

“I don’t know,” Derek admits. “They’re supposed to go by a code, to not hurt those who haven’t hurt them. But…”

He gestures at his side and Stiles clenches his jaw.

“You bit Scott though,” Stiles points out as-a-matter-of-factly and Derek turns his head so fast he’s afraid he would’ve hurt something had he not had extraordinary healing.

“I didn’t bite Scott,” he says and Stiles’ mouth falls open in surprise.

“You didn’t? Who did then?”

Derek turns to Scott who seems just as surprised by the news as Stiles.

“You think I’d go around biting teenagers?” he asks and Stiles chokes on something that could be a laugh.

Derek tries not to show his own amusement at the double innuendo, but his lips might twitch just a bit.

“I’m a beta, just like you, Scott,” he says instead. “Only alphas can turn a human into a werewolf. And before you ask,” he sends Stiles a look, “I don’t know who the alpha is.”

“Where’s your alpha then?” Stiles asks.

“In New York, it’s my sister, Laura.”

“Did she bite you?” Scott asks and Derek shakes his head.

“I’m a born werewolf.”

“Is that why your eyes are blue?” Stiles asks. “Scott’s are gold.”

Derek should have been prepared for that question, should have known that Stiles would notice it.

“No, there’s… sometimes the eye color can change. Alphas have red eyes, betas and omegas have either gold or blue.”

He can tell that Stiles wants to ask more, but that he refrains himself from it. Derek’s thankful and vows that if he and Stiles get closer – as friends or more – he will tell him.

“You two should head home,” Derek says and the boys nod. “Be careful, okay? Both of you.”

They nod and Derek gets a pat on the shoulder from Stiles. It’s not as much touch as he would like, but that’s okay.

Despite the turmoil of the day – or maybe because of it – he falls asleep rather quickly.

 

Even if last night had been quite dramatic, the next day is just like any other day. The Sheriff greets him when he gets to work and Derek tries not to think about the fact that the Sheriff’s son might be in danger, all because of the people he hangs out with. Maybe Derek should try to make Scott take some distance from Stiles? Who is he kidding? Scott would never do that, they would never survive.

He and Jordan are at lunch when someone calls on his private cell phone. He frowns as he fishes it out from his pocket. When he sees that the caller ID belongs to Stiles he quickly excuses himself and leaves the table to answer away from any prying ears.

“Stiles? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“A normal hello is too good for you or what?” Stiles asks and Derek rolls his eyes.

“Hello, Stiles, nice to hear from you,” Derek says with exaggerated friendliness.

Stiles snorts on the other side and Derek can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips when he hears that.

“The alpha has bitten someone else,” Stiles says. “Isaac Lahey, he works at the graveyard.”

Derek swears softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Scott tackled him in lacrosse and got a good sniff of him. He’s sure.”

Derek nods and sighs.

“Okay, is he- does he seem to be dangerous?”

“Isaac? Nah, he’s a puppy,” Stiles says and Derek doesn’t really feel like he can trust that statement.

“You think you and Scott can make him come to my place after school?”

“Sure,” Stiles says casually, like he can’t imagine anything in life being hard.

Derek nods to himself.

“Okay, just- Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Derek can practically hear him rolling his eyes and waving his hand dismissively.

“Stiles, I mean it. If you get hurt…”

“Your boss would be sad, I get it. See you later.”

If you get hurt, _I_ would go out of my mind, Derek thinks to himself. He puts the phone back in his pocket and makes his way back to the table and Jordan.

“What’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

Jordan raises an eyebrow at him and Derek groans tiredly as he sit down.

“Stiles.”

Jordan winces and nods, his face twisting in sympathy.

“Are you guys…?”

“It’s complicated,” Derek says.

It’s not even a lie. It’s so goddamn complicated with newly-bitten teenage werewolves with no one to teach them anything, an alpha running around biting said teenagers and a family of psychotic hunters waiting for Derek to do anything wrong – or not even that, depending on which psychotic hunter it is that sees him. And in the middle of it all is Stiles. Smart, funny, beautiful Stiles. Who’s Derek’s boss’ son and might be in mortal danger just because of the people he’s hanging out with.

Yeah, it’s complicated.

 

When Derek gets home that afternoon Stiles’ blue jeep is parked outside his apartment building. Stiles gives him a wave and a small smile from behind the wheel. Scott’s in the passenger seat and there’s an unknown boy in the back. He’s got dark-blond, curly hair and a sharp jawline.

Derek motions for them all to come with him and the teens scramble out of the car, Stiles a lot less gracefully than the werewolves.

“Derek, this is Isaac,” Scott introduces without even giving Derek a greeting.

Derek nods at Isaac. He smells like a werewolves – Derek hadn’t been sure to trust that Scott was right about it – and he looks scared. And quite a lot like a puppy. Derek turns around to hide the slight smile that that thought evokes. He hears the others trail behind him as he makes his way up the stairs and to his apartment. Once inside he motions for them to sit down on the couch and then takes a seat in the one armchair.

“Like a villain in some bad action movie,” Stiles stage whispers and Derek glares at him but it evokes a small chuckle from Isaac so he doesn’t really mind.

“Isaac, what do you know about werewolves?”

Isaac gives Scott a questioning look and Scott nods, just a small tip of his head. Isaac turns back to Derek.

“Super healing, super smell, super hearing,” Isaac lists of. “And I’m one.”

Derek nods.

“The alpha bit you?”

Another questioning glance at Scott, who nods encouragingly once again.

“I was working late at the graveyard, digging a grave,” Isaac says. “It came up from behind me and bit me here,” he shows at his side, “at first there was a wound but then it disappeared. And I could smell things so much clearer. And hear things I shouldn’t be able to hear.”

Derek nods reassuringly at him to continue.

“And I got another wound,” Isaac says, looking down at his hands. “It healed right away.”

“That is so cool,” Stiles mutters and they all turn to him, the serious atmosphere they had experienced as Isaac talked is suddenly gone and Scott snorts on a laugh at his friend.

“What?” Stiles asks. “It is. You’re like some superheroes or something.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but feel that it’s affectionate more than anything.

“Who is the alpha?” Isaac asks.

“We don’t know,” Stiles says. “Some crazy person, that’s for sure.”

Isaac nods and Derek feels he’s not telling them everything he’s thinking.

“Isaac, is there-?”

“It has called for me,” Isaac blurts out. “The alpha. I’ve been feeling its power over me. It wants me to come with it.”

He looks scared, almost close to tears.

“I don’t want to go with it.”

Derek rubs his forehead and tries to remember if he’s ever heard anything like this. Laura can make him do things he doesn’t want to do, but by ordering him to do it in, what Derek and Cora call, her alpha voice. She would never do anything to hurt Derek or Cora, never anything they really wouldn’t want to do. It’s mostly been about doing the dishes. Derek has no idea how it works when the beta doesn’t want to be with the alpha, if they can cut themselves loose.

“Are you experiencing this as well, Scott?”

Scott shakes his head.

“Not… I felt it in the beginning, just after I got bit, but not since… well, since I learnt how to control the shifts.”

“You’ve learnt to control it?” Isaac asks, staring at Scott with big eyes, like Scott’s some kind of werewolf Jesus.

“I taught him,” Stiles boasts proudly and Derek can’t help the amused snort he lets out. “What? I totally did. I was his werewolf Yoda. His Yoda I was. I turned it around.”

“It was a rather unorthodox method though,” Derek says with an eye-roll.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Derek feels his eyes would need to get a break from all the rolling they’re doing.

“If he’d come to me I would have taught him control faster. And with less pain.”

“Still, it worked,” Stiles argues and Derek shakes his head in amusement at the kid.

“Can you teach me control?” Isaac asks in a low voice. “I don’t want to go with the alpha.”

Derek nods. He knows the basics of control, of finding an anchor.

“You need to find an anchor, something that binds you to your human side.”

“What’s yours?” Isaac asks.

“Anger,” Derek says because after his parents and brother died it was.

First it was grief and then it was anger. But now… He resolutely doesn’t look at Stiles. Stiles shouldn’t have been able to calm him down when he had been shot, only his pack should have been able to get close to him.

Stiles shouldn’t be important enough for him to become his anchor. It’s disconcerting.

“My anchor is Allison.”

It’s, of course, Scott who says that. Derek has to close his eyes or else he’s going to do something that would be hard to explain to his boss, like killing Scott McCall.

“Are you still seeing her?” Derek asks through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, why?”

“She’s a hunter, Scott,” Derek spells out, hoping that maybe if he says it slowly it will get into Scott’s thick skull.

“You don’t know that!” Scott protests.

“Her whole family are hunters, Scott. It’s their _job_ to hunt down and kill werewolves. And you’re a werewolf, Scott, need I remind you of that?”

“You still don’t know if Allison’s a hunter!”

“Well, I know the rest of her family and that they wouldn’t bat an eye at burning down a whole house with a family inside, so excuse me if I believe that she’s capable of doing anything, including cutting your head off.”

Scott flies up from the couch and at Derek. He’s faster than a human being, but for a werewolf he’s pretty slow. Derek averts his attack and throws him down on the floor. Scott’s quick up on his feet again and throws himself at Derek. Derek pushes him down to the floor once more and then it just repeats itself again. The kid needs some new moves. Derek pushes him up against the wall and Scott fights for a few moments before he stops fighting, his body still tense under Derek’s grip though.

“Don’t be stupid, Scott.”

“Please, don’t hurt him, Derek,” Stiles says and he’s stupid enough to approach Derek and put a hand on Derek’s forearm that’s attached to the hand that’s holding Scott’s neck.

Derek feels the irritation and anger at Scott melt away and he backs away from Scott, holding out his arm so he forces Stiles to back away too. Stiles’ eyes are huge when Derek turns to him.

“I’m not going to hurt him,” he says and Stiles nods, unblinking. “Promise.”

Stiles’ hand squeezes Derek’s arm quickly before he approaches Scott. Isaac stares at Derek with big eyes. Derek ignores him and straightens up the low table in front of the couch.

“You want something from the kitchen?” Derek asks when he has straightened everything, even things that weren’t affected in his and Scott’s fight.

He can hear Scott and Stiles talking in low voices but he doesn’t care to listen in on them, giving them privacy instead.

“I could do with some curly fries,” Stiles interjects and Derek raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“Me too,” Isaac says and that’s how Derek ends up at the only diner in town with three teenagers.

He’s not sure how he was coerced into paying for them all.

Who is he trying to fool? Stiles batted his eyelashes and he agreed. He hopes the kid will never catch on to what power he holds over Derek. Or that anyone of the others catches onto it either. It would only end in embarrassment for Derek, he’s sure.

After they have eaten they head back to Derek’s apartment, all of them crammed up in Stiles’ jeep with Stiles behind the wheel and Derek in the passenger seat – he had glared at Scott who had glared back, his uneven jaw pushed out, but Derek had won the glare war and Scott had sighed and crawled in next to Isaac in the back. They have only gotten a few blocks when a howl is heard from the woods.

“Turn around!” Derek orders Stiles who, as a human, probably hadn’t heard the howl.

Isaac whines in the backseat and Scott’s eyes are going from Derek to Isaac to Stiles and back to Derek again. The howl is heard again; they’re getting closer. Stiles drives according to Derek’s directions and parks at the edge of the forest.

“Uh, guys, are we really going out now?” Stiles asks, but follows as the others climb out of the car.

They all stare into the woods. Derek tries to listen if he can hear anything from the alpha, but it’s all eerily quiet. There are no deer or rodents roaming around as they usually do, probably scared off by the alpha’s howls.

“Now what?”

Derek shifts his eyes from the dark trees in the woods to Stiles who looks exasperated, but he gives Derek a cheeky grin when he notices Derek looking at him. Derek looks away quickly so Stiles won’t see his smile.

“Maybe we should try calling him?” Stiles suggests, and before Derek can tell him it’s a terrible idea Scott and Isaac both howl.

Derek winces and Stiles’ grin looks like it’s about to rip his face into two.

“Are you two out of your freaking mind?” Derek hisses at them and Stiles rolls his eyes, or more like his whole head.

“What? Don’t be such a sour wolf. It was awesome.”

Derek is just about to walk away from it all when a growl comes from behind him. He turns quickly, lowering his stance. The alpha looks like something out of a bad science fiction movie, a lot like the werewolf in the third Harry Potter movie. Derek has never seen anything like it before. He hears someone take a step closer and he quickly turns to push Stiles backwards.

“Go!” he says and has just time to prepare himself before the alpha pounces.

The alpha is a much better fighter than Scott. He’s better than Laura too, Derek realizes. Laura has always been both stronger and smarter than him.

He growls as he claws and bites at the alpha, but he knows he’s losing this fight. He only hopes Stiles and the others will have had time to get away. Unlike regular wounds, the wounds the alpha’s claws have injected don’t heal. Derek knows wounds from an alpha heal slower, but he’s never experienced it before. Laura has never drawn blood from him when they have been play-fighting. He sees something in the corner of his eye and before he has time to realize what it is, someone else has joined in one the fight. He can hear growls, two pairs of growls. Scott and Isaac. For being stupid they’re pretty brave.

At last the alpha backs away with a low growl. Derek staggers and falls to his knees.

“Derek! Man, come on.”

Someone slaps him but he barely notices it.

“Come on, let’s get him into the car.”

He barely notices that someone’s carrying him or that he’s placed in the backseat. Someone’s talking to him, shushing and whispering for him to stay awake.

 

When Derek comes back he’s in his own bed in his own apartment. It’s dark in the room but he can see a light on in the living room. He gets out of bed and stretches. Someone has taken off his shirt – what was left of it – but he still has his torn jeans on. He takes a pair of sweatpants and goes to take a shower to get rid of all the blood. There’s still a few cuts that haven’t healed all the way yet, but they’re not bleeding anymore and only stings a bit when he showers. He feels better when he’s showered and goes to the kitchen to make a sandwich or something.

He’s not prepared to hear the slow breathing of another human in his living room. He stops and stares at Stiles who lies on his couch, his hand over his head and one foot on the floor. His mouth his opened and as Derek stares he mumbles something that no human will ever be able to understand before he turns over onto his stomach. His shirt rides up in the back, revealing the top of his underwear and pale, soft-looking skin. Derek can see a mole at his lower back and wonders how many more moles Stiles has over his body.

Instead of going to the kitchen he goes to fetch an afghan that he’s never even used from one of the closets in the hallway. He covers Stiles with the blanket and hesitates before stroking his fingertips over Stiles’ forehead, just once.

“No, I’m not imbubub,” Stiles mumbles and pouts with his lips as he frowns.

Derek snorts on a soft laugh and makes his way to the kitchen, preparing his sandwich as noiseless as possible, so not to wake Stiles.

He eats the sandwich standing in the kitchen by the sink. He stops to see that Stiles is still dead to the world before he goes back to his own bedroom. He leaves the door open if Stiles should need anything.

When he wakes up the next morning, Stiles is gone, but there’s a note on his kitchen table that makes Derek smile.

 

_I’m glad you’re okay. Talk to you later._

 

It’s awful how that single note makes Derek smile the whole day. Jordan keeps giving him weird looks.

 

When he gets home that day, there’s once again a car of teenagers waiting for him outside the building. He doesn’t pay attention to the silver colored Porsche until the guy steps out, an air of confidence around him as he approaches the other teenagers and Derek.

“Uh, yeah, this is Jackson,” Stiles says, looking put out but also a bit ashamed.

Derek narrows his eyes at the new kid, Jackson.

“I want to be a werewolf, too,” the kid opens with and Derek frowns at him, then at Stiles and Scott, who are both busy looking away from him, Stiles up at the sky and Scott studying a bit of rust on Stiles’ car. Derek doesn’t buy their efforts to seem innocent for even one second.

“Let’s get inside,” Derek says. “You too,” he points at Jackson who smiles at him.

Derek can tell that that kid means problems. Hopefully he won’t mean _Derek’s_ problem. The others trudge up after him to the apartment. He can hear some shuffling as they shoulder each other, by the sounds of it, it’s Scott and Jackson. Jackson must be stupid if he goes into a fight with someone he knows is a werewolf. And how the hell he knows that, Derek has no idea but he has a feeling it’s because of Scott.

Once inside Stiles throws himself down on the couch alongside with Scott. Jackson takes Derek’s armchair and Derek considers growling at him, but then resigns and goes to fetch some sodas for the kids. Isaac is leaning against the wall when he gets back, much more confident than the last time Derek saw him. For some reason he has a scarf wrapped around his neck. Derek gives him a weird look because of it and Isaac rolls his eyes at him. Talk about overnight transformation. Derek hands out the cans of sodas for the others before he shoves at Stiles’ feet so he can sit on the couch next to him. Stiles raises his feet so Derek can sit down. The moment Derek’s sat though, he lowers his feet so he has them in Derek’s lap. He gives Derek a cheeky grin, as if daring Derek to do anything. Derek sighs in defeat and lowers his arms over Stiles’ calves. He refuses to show any of the smugness he feels over it.

“So, how come Jackson knows about werewolves?” Derek asks and Jackson rolls his eyes.

“You mean apart from the fact that McCall can suddenly do some freaky parkour movements on the field when he just some months ago couldn’t even run a whole lap around the field without needing to stop to use his inhaler?”

Derek glares at Scott.

“What?” Scott asks, as if he has no idea how this is his fault.

“If Jackson can figure it out, then I think the Argents can too. You need to be more careful!”

Scott doesn’t meet his gaze but stares intently at the wall. Derek manages to contain the will to smash Scott’s head into the low table in front of them.

“So, what does it take to become a werewolf?” Jackson asks, and for a moment Derek had forgotten he was there.

“A bite from the alpha,” he says.

“Then bite me,” Jackson says and Derek frowns at him.

“I’m not the alpha,” he says slowly.

“You’re not? Then why are you hanging out with a bunch of high school kids?”

“Hey!” Stiles says indignantly and Derek rolls his eyes, pats Stiles’ leg in his lap.

“I’m beginning to wonder the same thing,” Derek answers Jackson.

“Who’s the alpha then? Can you take me to him?”

“We don’t know who he is,” Derek says.

“We don’t even know if it’s a he,” Stiles injects and at Derek’s look, he continues, “What? It could be a she, a woman, a female.”

He snickers to himself and then, “a bitch.”

Derek gives him a flat look and Stiles’ mocking grin almost splits his face.

“What? That’s a female dog, right?”

Derek sighs and looks up, as if asking some god he doesn’t even believe in what he’s done to deserve this. Stiles snickers at his side and he can’t help but feel a bit amused – he’s sure as hell not going to let Stiles know this though.

“So how did McCall and Lahey become werewolves then? What can I do to become one?”

“Walk around in the forest at night without clothes,” Isaac suggested and at Derek’s look he shrugged and smirked, “what? Hopefully he’ll catch pneumonia and die before the alpha finds him.”

Stiles barks out a laugh and Jackson rises from his chair. Isaac extends his claws and looks down at them. Jackson sits down again and Stiles is wheezing because he’s laughing so hard. Derek pats his leg and tries not to let his own amusement show. It is rather satisfying though to see someone like Jackson to be put into place. Though Derek suspects that Isaac’s new confidence might just get to his head, so he’s not too sure if he should encourage it more.

Jackson sneers at Isaac, who sneers back with his fangs. Derek must admit that he’s rather impressed that Isaac seems to have found his anchor already.

“How did you find your anchor?” Derek asks.

Isaac looks down and seems less confident all of the sudden.

“You don’t have to-” Derek starts, but Isaac shakes his head.

“It’s my dad.”

“Your dad?” Stiles asks, “but I thought…?”

“He wasn’t always like that.”

Derek knows there’s some story there that he doesn’t know about.

“Isaac’s dad used to beat him,” Stiles says quietly to Derek and Derek looks at Isaac, wondering if it’s okay for Isaac that Stiles reveals his past like that.

Isaac doesn’t seem to care though.

“Like I said, it wasn’t always like that.”

Derek nods in understanding. He remembers his own uncle who went on his own psychotic rampage when his human daughter died in a car accident. Derek’s mother was the one who at last had to kill her own brother. Peter hadn’t always been like that though and Derek remembers him as the funny uncle who used to play with them in the woods, helping them heighten their senses.

“We can’t do anything to help you turn into a werewolf, Jackson,” Derek says at last.

“Can’t Laura bite him?” Stiles asks and Derek turns a surprised look at Stiles, he’s quite sure he hasn’t told Stiles what his sister’s name is. “I’ve done my research.”

“She doesn’t have facebook,” Derek says because that is where it’s easiest to find other people.

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but she’s in the register at the station,” he shrugs.

Derek frowns.

“That’s illegal.”

“What? Are you going to tell on me?”

Stiles has a cocky grin on his face, like he knows Derek would never tell on him. The cockiness suits him, but Derek also wants to wipe it away. With his mouth.

He quickly averts his eyes from Stiles’ pink lips and is glad that the other two werewolves in the room are newly-bitten and won’t be able to smell any arousal from him. His sisters would never let him live this down.

“I can talk to Laura,” he tells Jackson who looks quite pleased. “But werewolves are pack creatures. It’s not just about the power. There are other things too.”

In his periphery he can see both Isaac and Scott nod.

“I like spending time with people more than I did before,” Isaac admits. “Not that I had anyone to spend time with before I got bitten.”

Derek shares a look with Scott and Scott seems to feel the same way Derek does, neither of them have any idea what to say to that. Luckily, Stiles doesn’t seem to have any problems with that.

“Way to ruin the mood, Isaac,” he scoffs and Isaac snorts on a laugh.

The tension is gone and Derek feels rather confused, if he’s to be honest.

“So what?” Jackson asks, “I have to hang out with these losers? I have friends of my own.”

“It’s likely that you’d want to hang out with your pack mates,” Derek explains, “even if they are losers.”

“Hey!” both Scott and Stiles exclaim and Derek feels a small smirk tug at his lips.

“What if I form my own pack then?” Jackson asks. “Can’t I have my own with my friends? And my girlfriend, Lydia Martin?”

Derek has no idea why Jackson feels the need to mention his girlfriend by name, he has no idea who Lydia is. He thinks he remembers that the Martin family was some bigshots here in Beacon Hills. Jackson looks smug though as he smirks at Stiles who rolls his eyes and turns away. Derek doesn’t like the feeling of not knowing what’s going on, especially not when it seems to have something to do with Stiles.

“Humans in a pack is quite common,” Derek says, “it’s usually family members that are born human or a human spouse. Most members though are wolves.”

“Did you have any humans in your pack?” Stiles asks, his voice rather quiet.

Derek nods, “My brother, Timmy. He was human. He always said he wanted the bite when he turned eighteen. My mom, who was the alpha back then, didn’t want to bite anyone under eighteen.”

Stiles reaches out his hand and touches Derek’s forearm softly and Derek gives him a small smile. Jackson makes a noise of disgust.

“So, you’ll talk to your sister about it? About biting me?” he asks, probably angry because the conversation went from being about him.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her,” Derek says. “The bite might not take, though.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asks, motioning at himself and Isaac.

“The bite can kill you, if your body rejects the bite.”

“Why does it do that?” Stiles asks, his eyes suddenly alert and he pushes himself up straighter from where he’s been half-lying against Scott’s side.

Derek shrugs, his fingers tapping against Stiles’ calf involuntarily.

“No one knows.”

“Can you cure someone?”

It’s Scott who asks.

“If someone doesn’t want to be a werewolf, can they be cured?”

“Lycanthropy isn’t something to be _cured_ ,” Derek snaps at him, “It’s not a disease, it’s a gift.”

“Yeah, but maybe not everyone wants to be a werewolf,” Scott says.

“What? Are you stupid, McCall? You’d rather have your asthma attacks than being able to do a backflip over another player?”

Derek kind of agrees with Jackson, but he doesn’t say that out loud.

“Some might want to have the choice to be a werewolf or not,” Scott says, and gets up from the couch.

Derek rolls his eyes as Scott slams the door shut as he leaves. Stiles kicks at him and glares as he gets up from the couch.

“I’ll talk to him,” he says as he passes Derek.

Derek’s eyes do not linger on the kid’s ass as he walks out. Jackson sighs heavily and studies his nails. Derek frowns at him. Do people in real life really study their nails? Isaac walks over and sits down on the couch next to Derek.

“So what do we do about the alpha?”

Derek shrugs.

“I mean, I kind of like being a werewolf, even if I’m new at this, but Scott doesn’t. And what if the alpha bites someone who doesn’t make it?”

Derek knows this, it’s worrying him too. Stiles comes back a while later, without Scott. Derek raises an eyebrow questioningly at him and Stiles shrugs. He sits down in between Derek and Isaac, his side pressing in against Derek’s and Derek leans a bit closer to him involuntarily.

“He went home, he took my jeep.”

Derek opens his mouth to tell Stiles that they’ll get his jeep back, when Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Borrowed my jeep, I let him. Jackson, can you give me a ride home later?”

“Do I look like a freaking taxi service?” Jackson scoffs.

“I’ll drive you home,” Derek says and glares at Jackson who looks unperturbed by Derek’s glares.

Usually Derek evokes some kind of reaction when he glares at people so he’s a little put off by Jackson’s indifferent.

“So, the alpha?” Jackson says then, “Do we kill it or what?”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think talking to it will be an option,” Stiles says.

“Talk to it and say what? Stop biting teenagers?” Isaac asks and Stiles rolls his eyes at him with a shrug.

“How do you even kill a werewolf?” Isaac asks.

“Yeah, is silver even a thing? I mean Argent is silver in French, you know that right?”

Stiles turns to Derek who nods. He wishes he’d known that a bit sooner though.

“Silver doesn’t do anything though. I don’t know if that myth comes from their name or where it comes from.”

“But how _do_ you kill a werewolf?” Stiles presses.

Derek hasn’t known him for long, but he’s already figured out that Stiles seems like one of those persons who wants to know everything about something.

“Wolfsbane, but you know that,” Derek says to Stiles. “Wolfsbane is a flower. It’s poisonous to werewolves and can kill us. The Argents use it in bullets so if we’re shot we get poisoned slowly until we die.”

Isaac looks a bit scared. Jackson looks mostly bored.

“There’s also mountain ash. I know that werewolves can’t cross a ring of mountain ash, but I don’t know if it may have the same effect as wolfsbane in our blood system. And things that kills a human instantly also kills a werewolf, like cutting off their heads or-”

“Cutting them in half,” Stiles whispers and Derek nods.

“Yeah, that is something hunters often do, to scare off other werewolves, to warn us that they’re here.”

“Why _are_ you still here then?” Jackson asks. “That girl they found cut in half in the woods, she was a werewolf, wasn’t she?” At Derek’s nod in affirmative, he continues, “Then why are you here? Why not just leave?”

“I can’t just-”

“Sure, you can!” Jackson says, “it’s not like you have any family here, right?”

It feels like a blow to the stomach and Derek wants to rip Jackson’s throat out. He can feel his eyes flashing at the kid, but then his anger subsides as a warm hand is placed on his.

“Don’t be such an ass, Jackson,” Stiles tells him. “He lives here, just as much as you and I do. He’s involved. He’s a cop. And I know from firsthand experience that cops never walk away from anything. Right, Derek?”

“Right,” Derek nods.

He feels a small smile tugging on his lips and he has no idea why. Stiles gives him a small smile and it feels a bit like another blow to the stomach, except this one feels like it’s in a good way, however that’s possible. Stiles’ eyes are impossibly large and his dark eyelashes frame them prettily. In the dim light they are a dark brown, like some kind of dark wood. He really looks like Bambi. Derek tries not to smile as he remembers calling Stiles that in head and on his contact list on his phone for quite some time.

“What?” Stiles asks, his voice amused. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” Derek says and turns away from Stiles.

Isaac gives him an unimpressed smirk and Derek glares at him. His glares don’t seem to work on Isaac either. Derek wonders what he’s done to deserve that.  

“Let’s order thai,” Stiles decides and that’s how Derek finds himself paying for another meal for a bunch of teenagers.

What has his life become?

 

“A birdie whispered in my ear that you’ve been spending time with Stiles,” Jordan smirks at him a few days later.

Derek can feel his ears burn – and isn’t that embarrassing in itself; that his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed?

“It’s not like that,” he protests, “and don’t talk too loud.”

Jordan, the bastard, grins even wider as he leans the chair onto its two back legs. Derek kind of hopes he falls over, he’s even a bit tempted to push him, all it would take is a little nudge to one of the chair’s legs and he would fall and make a fool of himself.

“Afraid the boss will hear and neuter you?”

While Derek hadn’t thought of castration exactly, he’s rather scared of the Sheriff finding out Derek has the hots for his son. He will most likely never find out, it’s not like Stiles would ever want Derek.

“Shut up,” Derek hisses back at him, keeping one eye at the Sheriff at the front of the room, going through some boring numbers for something.

“I’m glad to see that our latest recruits are listening and paying attention,” the Sheriff says, his voice louder than it’s been earlier.

Jordan’s chair tips and he falls to the floor, arms flailing. Derek bites his lip so hard it bleeds to keep from laughing out loud. The Sheriff looks quite amused as Jordan comes up from the floor, looking flustered.

“Take a seat, Parrish,” he says, his voice stern but his blue eyes sparkling showing anyone that he’s not really angry. “And keep the chair on all its leg now, will you? I hate if one of my deputies broke their neck. And not even on a job.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jordan nods.

Derek draws a bad stick-figure of Jordan falling off his chair. In return Jordan draws two stick-figures, one of them with hearts in its eyes and quite thick eyebrows. Derek glares at him for it, but secretly he feels rather glad for Jordan and the calm and funniness he brings into Derek’s life. Though he does laugh when he hangs out with Stiles and the others, there’s always the threat of the alpha and the Argents on their minds and they usually end up talking about that, trying to figure out what to do. Sometimes Scott comes with Stiles, but most times Stiles comes alone with Isaac. Isaac wants to learn everything there is to know about lycanthropy and he and Derek have taken to spar some – as much as Derek’s apartment allows. At those times Stiles steals Derek’s computer and when Derek gets it back he’s sometimes afraid to look at the search history because he’s not sure what knotting really is and what it has to do with werewolves.

When the meeting is over they head out to their cars, Derek is riding with the Sheriff today and he’s rather nervous about it. It’s the first time he’s spent time alone with the Sheriff since he found out that Stiles was the Sheriff’s son. The Sheriff allows Derek to drive and they leave the garage.

“You’ve been spending time with my son, haven’t you?”

The Sheriff isn’t one to beat around the bush, obviously. Derek hopes the Sheriff won’t notice him gripping the steering wheel tighter, but he’s the Sheriff so he most likely does.

“Yeah, we… I guess we’re friends.”

“And how old are you, Derek? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-three, sir.”

“You’re not buying them alcohol, are you?”

“What? No! Sir, that’s illegal.”

The Sheriff snorts on a laugh and Derek hopes that’s a good sign.

“I know it’s illegal, but my son can be very persuasive.”

“Sir, I promise, I would never do that.”

“Good.”

They ride in silence for a while and Derek starts to slowly relax and loosen his grip on the wheel. Then the Sheriff opens his mouth again.

“What about drugs?”

“Sir!”

The Sheriff laughs and Derek doesn’t know whether to laugh too or something else.

“You’re a good kid, Hale. I’m glad he’s got you as a friend.”

“I… Thanks, sir.”

“I hope you will look after him. Him and Scott both. God knows they need it.”

Derek snorts because just last night Stiles managed to cut himself in the face with a paper. Scott has probably done the same but he’s a werewolf now so the cut would heal before Derek would have had time to see it. Then Derek thinks of the alpha roaming around in the forest and the Argents that are out to get all werewolves, even if they have been quiet lately.

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

It’s the truth. Even if Derek sometimes – most times – swears over Scott’s stupidity (that mostly has to do with a certain hunter daughter) he knows that he would do anything to keep the young werewolf safe.

“I know you will, son.”

Derek hasn’t been called son in years, not since he was sixteen and his own father was still alive. He would never admit it but he can feel his eyes sting a bit.

It’s dark when they return to the garage and Derek feels relaxed and at ease with the Sheriff. His ease is quite soon replaced with panic though.

“Two kids are missing,” Jordan tells them. “We just heard. And there’s a hunter here, Argent something. He says there are several mountain lions around here. He says he’ll help with the search and to hunt down the mountain lions.”

Derek meets Chris Argent’s steely gaze without blinking. The message Argent and his hunters send out is that if they find the kids first and they have been bitten – which is quite likely with the recent history of kids walking into the woods – they’ll kill them. Or put them down, as they probably say.

Derek knows he won’t have much time to find them before the Argents do.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to my lovely beta, Beth!

In the commotion that follows Derek manages to sneak off from the station, telling both Jordan and the Sheriff that he will ride with the other. Then he calls Stiles, telling him what has happened and that he needs Scott and Isaac’s help but that they have to be careful.

“And you’re not coming with them,” he tells Stiles before he hangs up, ignoring the teenager’s protests.

He doubts Stiles will listen and stay at home, but he really hopes he will. He runs on all fours to the forest as he shifts half-way, his eyes turning blue to make him see better in the dark, his ears lengthening to give him better hearing and his nose thickening and lengthening to give him better smell. The claws and fangs don’t do much to help in his searching, but should he encounter one of Argent’s hunters they will do in a fight. He howls for Isaac and Scott, hoping they will hear him even if they’re not pack. He hears an answering howl and knows it’s from Isaac. He works his way through the woods, every now and then stopping to check in on Isaac and Scott, who started out in the north part of the woods. Derek suddenly picks up a trail, it’s the scent of a girl. One of the teenagers that had gone missing was a girl, Erica Reyes, so Derek follows the scent as it grows stronger. He suddenly hears a growl and then a familiar yelp.

“No, no, no,” he chants as he runs faster than he’s probably ever run before.

He throws himself at the person standing in front of Stiles and then gets up again to crouch in front of the kid. Stiles is lying on his back on the ground, leaning against his elbows. The girl – werewolf, actually – prowls around him and Derek growls at her, warning her. A large figure gets visible from the bushes as he comes forward, his eyes gleaming gold, too. Derek howls for help from Scott and Isaac. He doesn’t want to hurt these kids, but if it’s between them and Stiles then he knows whom he’ll choose. He growls at the newly-bitten werewolves, hopes they will understand to back off, but they start to prowl the clearing, their eyes fixed on Stiles. Derek doesn’t let them out of his sight, his growl ever present, low in his chest. When the boy attacks, Derek’s ready. They’re new to this, don’t know how to fight. He uses more force than necessary, throwing the boy into a tree and then swiping his clawed hand out at the girl who had taken one step too close to his Stiles.

Derek doesn’t know how long they have been fighting when the boy doesn’t get up after Derek’s blow to his head. It’s then easy to incapacitate the girl as well. They are still breathing, because for some reason Derek knows it’s important that they are alive even if they have tried to hurt his Stiles.

“He-ey, big guy,” Stiles stutters behind him, his heart beating faster than usual.

Derek turns to look at him, stepping closer and crouching down in front of him.

“Uh, are you okay?”

Derek nods and tries to see if Stiles has any injuries. He crouches closer and puts his hands on Stiles’ arms, careful of the claws, because they can hurt Stiles’ pale skin.

“Oh-okay?”

Derek growls softly in affirmative, it’s okay. He’ll take care of Stiles. There’s a rustling in the bushes and then two other werewolves step out. Their eyes glow from gold to their human blue respectively brown and they take a step towards Derek and, more importantly, Stiles. Derek growls at them.

“Jesus!” Stiles swears and pats Derek’s shoulder.

One of the other werewolves takes a step closer.

“Stiles, are you-?”

Derek snaps at him and he jumps back, looking scared. Good, Derek thinks, he should know not to approach Stiles. He will only hurt him.

“Take the others,” Stiles orders them, motioning for the two still-motionless werewolves that tried to hurt Stiles.

“I might say that my foster home doesn’t really care what I do, but I’m pretty sure they’d ask questions if I brought in two unconscious classmates,” one of the wolves say, he’s wearing a blue scarf.

Derek could strangle him with the scarf should he try to hurt Stiles.

“Take them to Derek’s place,” Stiles orders.

He is good at ordering people. Derek feels proud of his mate.

“What if they wake up all growly?”

“Mountain ash!” Stiles says and Derek growls because he knows he doesn’t like mountain ash even if he doesn’t know why.

“Stiles, even if we had some, we can’t touch it,” the other werewolf says.

This one has an uneven jaw. Derek’s jaw is much prettier. He hopes Stiles knows this.

“Allison!” Stiles says. “There’s probably some in her house.”

“And how-?”

“I don’t know, just fix it. Ask Jackson, he’s human.”

“Enough,” the one with the scarf says and the other snickers.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the one with the uneven jaw asks and Stiles must tell him that he’s fine, he knows Derek will protect him.

The werewolves each take one of the motionless werewolves over their shoulders and then they leave. Derek feels himself relax and turns towards Stiles again.

“So, big guy, do you want to step off me before my dad comes and finds us this way?”

Derek growls because he doesn’t want to be too far away from Stiles, the other werewolves might come back.

“Derek, come on,” Stiles says and pushes at Derek’s shoulders.

Derek huffs and steps back. Stiles stares at him.

“Dude, you can shift back.”

Derek stares back at Stiles. His eyes are very pretty. Stiles snorts and raises his hand.

“Can I…?”

Derek doesn’t know what Stiles is asking for, but there’s nothing he would deny his Stiles. Stiles takes a steadying breath. His heart is racing, Derek can smell some of his fear but also excitement. Stiles’ fingers touch Derek’s cheek and Stiles lets out a soft laughter. His fingers trail up Derek’s forehead.

“Where did your eyebrows go?” he murmurs, it’s not a question he’s asking Derek directly, Derek can tell. “And your eyes, blue. I wish you’d tell me why Scott and Isaac have gold and you have blue.”

Derek whines because he remembers his brother Timmy. Stiles nods.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He trails his fingers down Derek’s nose and then over his lips. Derek snaps his fangs playfully at Stiles’ fingers, watching in amusement how the kid startles backwards before laughing.

“You asshole,” he chuckles and pushes at Derek’s chest.

He’s not afraid of Derek. Derek backs away when Stiles pushes at him some more and when Stiles gets up onto his feet, Derek follows. Stiles takes his hand and Derek’s careful of the claws so they won’t rip Stiles’ fragile skin.

“Let’s just hope the Argents won’t find us.”

They walk all the way to Derek’s den. Somewhere on the way Derek shifts back to human, he’s mind returns to him and his ears burn.

“Stiles, I’m-”

“Look, he talks!” Stiles says.

“I’m sorry, I- I lost it.”

Stiles stops and stares at him. Derek swallows, the truth in his own words sink in and he feels sick to his stomach by his own behavior.

“Derek, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine, I- I lost control,” Derek says. “Didn’t you see? I- I wasn’t human.”

“You were human enough,” Stiles protests. “And you didn’t hurt me.”

“What if I had?” Derek says. “What if I had killed those teenagers?”

“But you didn’t! You know you shouldn’t do that. And you know not to hurt me. You protected me.”

Derek feels his chest constricting because the words are true, he did protect Stiles. In his wolf form Derek would have done anything to protect Stiles and the thought scares the hell out of him because he has no idea what it means.

“I’ll follow you home,” Derek says because even if he wants to be alone right now there’s an alpha out there and if Stiles were to be attacked Derek would never forgive himself.

“Derek,” Stiles tries but Derek has already started walking towards Stiles’ house.

Stiles tries to talk to him some more during the walk, but Derek keeps his mouth shut. Stiles glares at him when they arrive to the Stilinski house.

“Great talk, dude,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Without a word he enters the house and slams the door shut. Derek listens to hear that he locks it too before he leaves.

When he gets to his own apartment there are a boy and a girl on his couch. Their wounds have almost healed, but they are still unconscious or asleep. There’s a ring of mountain ash around them even if they now look all human now. Derek hopes they will stay that way.

He’s worn out and even if there are quite a few things he should be thinking about he’s out like a light the moment his head touches his pillow.

 

When Derek wakes up the next morning he can hear people talking outside his bedroom door and when he emerges from his bedroom he’s met by the two teenagers from last night. They are standing up, looking scared and uneasy. The girl has blonde hair with a few twigs in it and large brown eyes. The boy is black and his head is shaved. He’s huge, probably broader around the shoulders than Derek is – and people usually say that he has broad shoulders.

“Erica?” Derek asks the girl, who nods. “Vernon?”

“Boyd,” the guy says, “no one calls me Vernon.”

Derek nods at that. He notices the circle of mountain ash around them and understands that they can’t leave it. He sends a text to Stiles to come and fix it before he moves one of the kitchen chairs to sit in front of the teens. They sit down, the girl on the couch and the boy in the armchair.

“I’ve called my-”

Derek remembers thinking of Stiles as his mate last night and he shakes his head to clear it.

“My friend, he will come and remove the circle.”

“Why can’t we cross it?” the girl asks and Derek leans his forearms against his elbows.

“What do you remember from last night?”

They tell Derek what they remember and Derek explains about lycanthropy and what it means. Half-way through the discussion, Stiles barges in without knocking – Derek’s quite annoyed to realize that it doesn’t annoy him at all that Stiles feels at home enough not to knock. Stiles breaks the circle with a wave of his hand and Derek stares at him. Stiles is too busy cheering.

“Did you see that?” he cheers. “I did it. I did something!”

“Where did you learn that? And when?” Derek asks.

“You know Deaton, the veterinarian?”

Derek nods, remembering the name vaguely.

“Apparently he’s not only a veterinarian,” Stiles explains. “He met up with Scott and Isaac last night and wasn’t at all surprised by them carrying these two,” he motions at Erica and Boyd, “he’s some kind of, I don’t know, witch maybe? Anyway, he made this circle and this morning me and Scott went there. You know that Scott works there sometimes, right? Well, we went there and Deaton told me that I could be the spark or something to, you know, make the ash work or something.”

Derek understands about half of it. When he glances at Erica and Boyd he can tell they understood nothing.

“Stiles, will you go fix some breakfast for us?” Derek asks and Stiles frowns at him.

“What am I? Your personal human slave?”

“My favorite human,” Derek says and Stiles’ cheeks pink prettily before he turns with a huff and heads for the kitchen. “Do you know Stiles from school?”

Erica and Boyd both nod.

“I used to have a huge crush on him,” Erica admits with a shrug and feign confidence.

Derek can understand her, but doesn’t say so. Instead he continues to explain about the alpha and the Argents. Stiles comes with sandwiches and coffee for all of them and Derek thinks that Stiles might be his favorite everything.

 

Boyd finds an abandoned train station that they start to train at. Derek knows they will most likely fight sometime in a not too distant future and he wants them to be as ready as they can be. They spar and train their shifting. Boyd has the hardest time controlling his shifts and Derek’s annoyed to see that Scott’s the one who finally gets through to him.

Derek feels like they are forming their own pack and it’s a weird feeling because they have no alpha, he’s the closest to it and Scott seems to be his second. Stiles is… Derek has no idea what part Stiles has in this ragtag pack, they all seem to listen to him, which is something Stiles doesn’t seem to be used to but he seems to be enjoying the attention and respect he gets.

They spend most evenings at Derek’s place and Isaac has all but moved in on his couch. Stiles drops by every now and then when Derek’s at the station and sits on Derek’s desk talking about supernatural creatures, asking rhetorical questions and wants Derek to blink once if what he says is true. Derek stares unblinkingly at him when he does this. Jordan smirks from his desk and Derek throws a donut at his head. Jordan, the bastard, catches it and takes a large bite from it. Stiles looks cutely confused.

 

They have been searching the woods at the evenings and there have been no signs of the alpha. Derek’s started to hope that he might have moved on and even if that might cause problems for someone else, Derek’s glad that his pack is safe. He’s walking home from work when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket and picks it up only to see Stiles’ picture. Stiles took the picture himself and he probably tried to look ugly, but to Derek he only looks cute.

“Hey,” Derek answers and there’s sobbing that immediately makes Derek alert.

“It’s Lydia,” Stiles says and Derek doesn’t really know what that means. “She’s been bitten, she’s at the hospital. She’s in a coma.”

“What?”

Derek has never heard of it.

“I’ll be right there,” he promises and turns on his heel to jog to the hospital.

He gets there and he hears Stiles’ voice just before he turns a corner.

“She might die,” he says, sounding sad and scared.

“I know, man.”

It’s Scott. Derek stops and doesn’t know what to do. He feels out of place, he shouldn’t be here. Scott is there, he will take care of Stiles.

He leaves the hospital with a heavy heart and once outside he sends text to Scott saying he had to do something at the station but that he hopes Scott takes care of Stiles. Scott answers with an “of course”.

Derek manages to keep himself from asking about Lydia for about an hour, but then he asks what the deal with Lydia and Stiles is.

She’s only the love of his life, Scott replies, he has a ten year plan to woo her and everything.

Derek wishes he had never asked. He goes for a run in the woods, telling Isaac that he’s going to see if he can find any trace from the alpha, but he’s a bit too preoccupied to really do any real searching.

He’s always known that there’s no chance for him to actually get Stiles, but he’s managed to forget that in the last few days and sometimes he’s thought that Stiles might even feel something for him akin to what Derek feels for him. Derek’s stupid, he knows he is. He’s always been stupid, and will probably always be stupid. He’s always fallen for the wrong persons; for beautiful, psychotic, young women; or werewolves with a need to control him. Or just the unattainable, like Stiles.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever fallen as hard for someone as he’s fallen for Stiles. It makes him angry and sad at the same time.

He gets home late and is surprised to see Jackson on his couch, looking smaller than he usually does.

“We went out into the woods,” he begins without even a greeting.

“Why would you go out into the woods when you know there’s a rabid alpha werewolf there?” Derek snaps at him, he’s glad to take out his anger on someone.

Jackson doesn’t answer and Derek understands.

“So you wanted the bite?” Derek asks, “What about your girlfriend, huh? Did she want the bite? Did she even know about the werewolf?”

Jackson shakes his head without meeting Derek’s eyes. Derek wants to punch the kid in the face.

“Why is she in a coma?” Jackson asks. “Is that normal?”

Derek shakes his head.

“I have never heard of it.”

Jackson sags against the back of the couch, rubbing his hands over his face.

“We need to do something about that alpha,” Isaac states from the kitchen table and Derek nods. “Stiles is the only one who has come up with some sort of plans.”

“Most of his plans include fire or weapons,” Derek protests because Stiles and anything that can kill people sound like a dangerous combination for Stiles himself.

“Still,” Isaac shrugs.

Derek shakes his head slowly and rubs his hands over his face. He knows they need to do something about the alpha, but he’s afraid that the most realistic option is talking to the Argents – Scott’s idea, actually – and that’s something he could live happily ever after never doing ever again.

Jackson leaves a while later and Derek goes to bed. He doesn’t sleep much and feels tired the next day. Jordan chatters on about Lydia and how odd it is that she got into a coma after being attacked by a mountain lion. Derek merely nods and offers a few words every now and then.

“Alright, what’s up, man?” Jordan asks at last and Derek wonders how to even start explaining the turmoil he’s going through without revealing anything about any supernatural creatures.

“Did you know that Lydia apparently is the love of Stiles’ life?” Derek asks and Jordan gets that pitying look on his face.

It was quite some time since Derek saw it and he hasn’t missed it one bit.

“Stiles hasn’t left the hospital since she came in,” Derek tells him. “It’s just- I know we weren’t… we weren’t going to end up dating or anything, but still…”

“You hoped,” Jordan nods and Derek sighs.

“I hoped,” Derek admits and it hurts to admit that he actually had had hope about love, even if love has screwed him over so many times before.

“Isn’t Lydia dating Jackson Whittemore though?” Jordan asks after a moment of silence and Derek nods.

“It doesn’t seem to stop Stiles.”

“Yeah, but maybe you can convince him that Lydia will never leave Jackson?”

“And become what? Some kind of consolation price? No thanks.”

“I’m only trying to help,” Jordan sighs and looks a bit hurt.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Haven’t we all?” Jordan sighs and Derek wants to tell him exactly what he’s been dealing with, he doubts Jordan has the problem of a rogue alpha werewolf on his hands.

When he comes home that afternoon he calls Laura and tells her all about his problems with the alpha and the bitten teens and Lydia who won’t wake up.

“Do you want me to come over?” she asks, ever the caring big sister.

She says come over, like she lives next door, while she actually lives on the other side of the country. That’s quite cute, Derek thinks. And also inconvenient for her.

“No, we’ll handle it,” he promises her, even if he doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to do that.

“Are you sure?” Laura asks and Derek nods, stealing himself to lie to his sister.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Okay.”

They hang up after Laura has asked some more about the general life in Beacon Hills and how work is going.

It takes Derek an hour or two lying on the couch, zapping through his TV channels before he realizes that something feels off. It takes him just a moment to understand that it’s because there are no teenagers goofing around, doing homework or making a general mess of his home (Stiles and Boyd like to bake but hate to do the dishes). Even if Stiles, Scott and Isaac sometimes have lacrosse practice Boyd and Erica come to hang out with Derek. And when Boyd has math trivia team, the others are there.

Erica is the only one who doesn’t have any after school activities. Before her transformation she had serious epilepsy and had enough problems with not falling behind because of all her hospital visits. Now she usually hangs out at Derek’s place, doing her homework and asking Derek to help her with math when Boyd’s not around to do it. Erica is quite bright, but while she has gathered confidence about her appearance after the bite, she still has problems in trusting her own brain. Derek hopes that the pack and her lycanthropy will help with that in time, too.

Now though, there are no teenagers present and when Derek starts to think about it he starts to worry.

Are you okay? Are the others with you? he sends off to Stiles, who should be at the hospital.

When he doesn’t get a reply he starts to worry. When he doesn’t get a reply in five minutes he changes into jeans instead of his sweatpants, preparing to go out. He’s just put on his jacket and is about to go out through the door when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Yeah, we’re all together at Scott’s. School work, Stiles’ answer says. Derek feels a bit more at ease at that but then he remembers that all then pack members don’t share a single class together and they usually do most of their school work at Derek’s place. There’s really no reason for them to do it at Scott’s place this time.

Unless they feel like Derek’s too old for them.

It’s ridiculous to think like that, Derek knows that. It’s not like he doesn’t have other friends. Except he doesn’t, not really. He only has Jordan, and his sisters in New York.

He shrugs off his jacket and retakes his place on the couch to watch more TV. It’s boring to watch TV without the constant buzzing of other people around; Isaac always complains, no matter what they’re watching he’s displeased with it, and Stiles always shares some random trivia about something they see on the screen, be it about some animal or about making the movie or the show they’re watching.

He misses them. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone out loud.

It’s almost a relief when someone suddenly throws the door opened – all the teens have stopped knocking at Stiles’ insistence that they didn’t need to do that.

“Derek!” It’s Erica’s voice and she sounds upset.

“What?”

Derek’s by her side in no time, patting down her arms just to see that she’s okay. She shrugs him off with a half-hearted glare.

“I’m fine! Stop with the mother hen-ing.”

Derek backs away. She seems fine.

“The others went to look for the alpha,” she admits, not meeting his gaze.

“What? Are they suicidal? Why would they do that?”

Erica doesn’t look up at him, her head tilted slightly to the side.

“Stiles and Jackson made some kind of bomb that they’re going to throw at the alpha to kill it.”

“Oh, for the love of-”

Derek grabs his jacket and takes Erica’s hand to drag her out of his apartment.

“Where are they?”

“They were going to lure the alpha to the old house in the woods. The one that burnt years ago.”

Erica doesn’t meet his eyes, but Derek doesn’t think it’s because she knows his connection to the house. It seems more like some kind of submission. He doesn’t have time to ponder that now though. He lets go of Erica’s hand as they come out and they start running towards the woods and the old, burned-down Hale house.

Derek hasn’t been there since he came back to Beacon Hills. He’s thought about it, but then all the other drama came along and he hasn’t felt like it. He probably needs half a day to gather the courage to go to see it and the other half to try not to break down because of the sight.

Now though, as he runs with Erica by his side, he doesn’t think about seeing his old family home again, he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s running towards the place his mother, father and brother died at. All his thoughts are on the stupid teenagers that have somehow nestled their way into his heart.

“Boyd said he would try to talk them out of it,” Erica explains. “We decided that he should stay and I should come for you.”

“I’m glad some of you have at least half a brain.”

Erica winces but Derek doesn’t feel bad about it. It’s a stupid plan and he can’t believe they even thought of doing it. They probably know it’s stupid, too, otherwise they would have told him about it.

Derek can hear growling and the sound of fighting as they draw near the old Hale grounds. When he arrives, Scott, Isaac and Boyd are all fighting the alpha. They seem to be losing though. Derek can’t believe they decided to try to take down the alpha just a few days before the full moon. Stupid teenagers.

He throws himself into the fight, clawing and snarling at the alpha for hurting his pack members.

“Move away from him!” someone screams and the others back off.

Derek follows their example after a hard blow to the alpha’s head that makes him stagger. Someone throws something burning against the alpha and as the glass bottle breaks the whole alpha catches fire. There are screams as it burns and the others sag against each other watching it. The alpha falls backwards to the ground and Derek can see that he’s still breathing. Derek approaches it slowly and is met by grey unseeing eyes of a man.

“Do it,” he rasps. “Please.”

Derek hesitates and then raises his hand, his claws extended. And then he tears through the alpha’s neck.

He feels the shift immediately, the power coming to him from nowhere, making it hard to breathe. He staggers away from the alpha’s dead body and he feels his eyes change color and he knows that they are no longer blue but red.

“Derek, what-?”

It’s Stiles who asks. Of course it is.

“I’m the alpha now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rogue Alpha wasn't Peter but another character from the show. Do you know who?
> 
> Also, every chapter of this story ends in a somewhat cliffhanger. Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thanks to the lovely Beth.

Being an alpha doesn’t feel much different from being a beta, except that his senses are better. He can hear the heartbeats from the teenagers around him.

“Is everyone alright?”

The werewolves have all got gashes from the alpha’s claws but they will heal, Derek knows that. He turns his eyes to Stiles and Jackson. Stiles is staring at him with an opened mouth and Derek rolls his eyes at the teen, whose mouth snaps shut.

“I’m fine,” he says. “You know, except for participating in murdering a crazy alpha. But I do that, like, everyday.”

“He’s fine,” Scott says with an eye-roll.

“What about the body?” Jackson asks.

They all stare at the body of the former alpha. Derek turns to Isaac.

“Isaac, you’re good at digging graves, right?”

Isaac gets a kind of deranged smile on his face at that.

The werewolves make quick work on digging a deep grave for the alpha while Stiles and Jackson lean against a tree each, Jackson complains about having broken a nail in his fight with the alpha.

“You didn’t fight the alpha,” Stiles throws at him.

“Didn’t you see when he shoved me out of the way?”

“Yeah, you got grass strains on your knee,” Isaac comments from the depths of the grave.

Jackson gives a screech and starts to swear about custom-made. Stiles snickers and Isaac looks very pleased with himself.

They drag the body over to the grave and dump it in before shoveling dirt over it.

“Shouldn’t we say a few nice words about him?” Stiles asks.

“He was… uh… he was good at hiding?” Scott suggests and the other teenagers snicker. “Guys, I’m serious! It’s a dead man. Not a very good man, but still… he was a man once.”

That sobers them all up and Derek knows it’s better with the alpha dead but Scott’s words still hit hard.

“Wait here,” he orders the others and goes into the woods behind the Hale house where he knows wolfsbane grows.

He digs up one flower and then heads back to the teenagers. He places the flower on top of the grave.

“It’s a tradition,” he explains. “It’s said to keep werewolves able to run wild in the afterlife.”

He brushes off his dirty hands on his pants before they head to the cars the teens arrived in. Derek rides in the jeep along with the always-driver Stiles, Erica, Boyd and Isaac. The betas had a game of rock, paper, scissors of who should ride in Jackson’s car and Scott had lost most times.

“So, alpha, huh?” Stiles asks. “Does that mean they’re your puppies now?”

He motions with his head at the betas in the back.

“Betas,” Derek responds and he feels Erica patting his shoulder from behind him.

“Puppies,” Stiles retorts and Isaac growls.

“Isaac,” Derek barks and Isaac sinks back into the seat with a whine.

Stiles is watching him with an opened mouth.

“Watch the road!” Derek says and steers the jeep away from a ditch to their left.

Stiles’ head snaps forward and he spends the rest of the ride staring straight ahead. Erica snickers in the back and Derek rolls his eyes. He has no idea why Stiles stares at him so just because he’s suddenly an alpha. He wonders if Stiles is afraid of him, but he doesn’t seem to be afraid at all. Erica’s house is the first stop and then it’s Derek’s.

“See you tomorrow,” he says to the others and squeezes Stiles’ shoulder briefly before he’s out of the car.

He doesn’t look at his phone until he’s showered and changed into clean – and more importantly whole – clothes. He has 55 missed calls from none other than Laura. He calls her so quickly he almost breaks his phone tapping at it.

“Derek?!” Laura screams, her voice full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks, his brow creasing in worry. “Is it Cora?”

“What’s wrong?!” Laura repeats, “You’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Yeah, you’re the one who’s called me like fifty times!”

“I can’t feel you!” Laura cries and it all makes sense.

Laura can’t feel Derek, her beta, through their bond anymore.  Because he’s no longer a beta.

“I- I’m an alpha,” Derek admits and Laura screeches at that.

“What?! An alpha?! How-? When-? What-?”

“Will you just relax? I’ll tell you.”

Laura takes a deep breath and Derek can hear her sitting down. He tells her about the showdown the betas had planned and how Erica came to get him.

“What does that mean for us?”

Laura sounds sad.

“I’m still your brother.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We can come visit though? Me and Cora?”

“Of course. You can come whenever you want.”

They talk some more before they hang up. Derek feels exhausted from the night’s adventures. He’s glad that the alpha is gone and that they don’t have to live with that constant threat anymore. He thinks of his pack, of things we want them to learn. The only one he’s not sure of is Scott, he doesn’t know if Scott is willing to join his pack. He’s also worried about Stiles because even if he isn’t a werewolf Derek has felt as if he’s been in the unofficial pack for quite some time but he’s not sure if Stiles has felt the same way and if he’s willing to be in Derek’s pack. Derek doesn’t know what position Stiles would have in his pack either. Or, he knows which position he would feel Stiles having but he doubts Stiles would want to be the alpha’s mate.

He tries to put any and all thoughts of Stiles out of his mind and falls asleep at last.

 

Derek sleeps in the next morning and he feels rather relaxed when he wakes up. He goes for a run in the woods and now that he thinks about it, there are more bird twitter and sounds from deer and rodents than there had been in the last few weeks, when the alpha had been roaming around.

Derek’s in a ridiculously good mood when he gets to the station early that evening.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jordan asks and makes a disgusted face at Derek who rolls his eyes and raps Jordan in the back of his head with a heap of papers before he sits down at his own desk facing Jordan.

Jordan’s eyes widen suddenly and he leans over his desk to Derek’s and whispers,

“Did you get laid?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” Derek tells him and slaps at Jordan’s hand that tries to steal a donut from Derek’s desk.

Derek’s been saving that donut for a better day. That day is today. He takes a large bite of the donut and smirks smugly at Jordan, fully aware that there’s frosting on his lips. Jordan sticks out his tongue just as the Sheriff passes.

“I’m so glad our new deputies are so mature,” he sighs, just loud enough for them to hear.

Both deputies look at each other and neither knows what to say. The Sheriff doesn’t stop so even if Derek did manage to come up with something to say to defend himself – and perhaps Jordan – the Sheriff is already at Tara’s desk, discussing something else.

They have a slow afternoon with paperwork until they get the call from a hysterical Mrs. Martin. Lydia is missing from the hospital.

Derek wants to bang his head against his desk, but instead he grabs his jacket and rides along with Jordan to search through the town.

“Do you mind if I open the window?” Derek asks, “I need some fresh air.”

Jordan gives him a weird look.

“Sure, go ahead,” he answers anyway.

Derek knows it’s weird, sticking his head out the window – if he did need some fresh air there’s probably some button for that in the car – but he hopes he’ll be able to smell Lydia before anything happens to her. He has no idea if she’s turned into a werewolf and gone for a hunt or if she’s been taken.

They’re driving just past the preserve when Derek catches the scent of a girl.

“Stop!” he orders and is out of the car before it has really stopped.

Another car pulls up right behind Jordan’s and Stiles and Scott stumble out of it.

“I followed her scent and-”

Derek glares and makes a shushing motion at Scott before inclining at Jordan with his head.

“Hey, guys! What are you doing here?”

“Uh, nothing, we’re not doing anything, we’re not even out,” Stiles answers and Derek rolls his eyes so hard his head follows in the motion.

Jordan doesn’t seem to react much more than roll his eyes as well. Derek hears the breaking of a twig somewhere in the forest close to them. Before he has time to alert the others or take a cautious step forward a girl stumbles out of the underbrushes.

Correction, a naked Lydia stumbles out. Her hair is untamed and a few twigs and leaves sticking out of it. Derek doubts she normally looks like this if she’s Jackson’s girlfriend.

“Can someone give me a jacket?” she asks.

Out of the corner of his eye Derek sees Stiles trying to grab Scott’s shoulder but failing and falling to the ground. Derek ignores the sting of jealousy at that and shrugs off his jacket to cover the girl’s shoulders with it. And hopefully her more delicate parts as well. He steers her towards the car and helps her into the backseat.

“Call the sheriff and I’ll talk to her,” Derek orders Jordan and fetches a blanket for Lydia to cover herself up with even more before he sits in the back with her.

She gives him a small smile of thanks, but she looks shaken.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Derek asks in his kindest voice.

Lydia frowns and then shakes her head.

“I don’t remember. I just remember waking up in the middle of the forest. Naked.”

Derek nods and asks her if she remembers when she and Jackson went into the forest and she got bitten. She remembers walking around and complaining that she would have taken a pair of sneakers had she known Jackson would drag her out there and then that she got attacked by something.

“It was most likely a mountain lion,” Derek explains to her.

“A mountain lion made me end up in a coma?” Lydia asks, disbelief clear in her voice.

“Yeah, you got bitten,” Derek says and feels himself starting to sweat a bit under her scrutiny.

“And ended up in a coma?”

Derek nods because that’s the official explanation. The unofficial explanation is just as hard to understand and the only featured that’s different is that the mountain lion was actually a werewolf.

“If a mountain lion bit me, then where’s the bite?”

“It’s at your side,” Derek explains because even if he hasn’t seen it in person, he has seen it on photos.

“I have no bite on my side,” Lydia says and pulls away the blanket to show Derek both her sides, completely unashamed.

Derek doesn’t try to sneak a peek at her boobs though because she’s right, there is no bite. Normally that would mean that she’s a werewolf, but she doesn’t smell like one, she only smells human and… Derek takes a deep breath. He can feel something else there, but he has no idea what that means. Jordan comes back and Derek gets into the passenger seat.

“We’ll take her to the hospital.”

Jordan starts the car and it starts to roll but stops next to the jeep where Scott and Stiles are standing. Jordan rolls down the window.

“Shouldn’t you two be home?” he asks the teens who shuffle their feet and Derek can see Stiles’ mind working for him to come up with something.

“Go home, guys,” Derek orders them, silently telling them that he’s got this and that it’s under control.

They both look like they would want to argue but Jordan gets rid of that problem by rolling up the window and driving away.

They drop Lydia off at the hospital where her mother gushes over her. They leave them there and drive back to the station.

“Crazy night, huh?” Jordan sighs and Derek nods in reply, realizing his jacket is still with Lydia. “What was she doing out there? Do you think she’s a bit…”

Jordan makes a swirling motion with his finger at his head and Derek shrugs, because he honestly doesn’t know.

“This town has been crazy the last couple of months,” Jordan continues as they make their way to their desks to continue with the paperwork they were doing when they got called out. “Well, you’ve hardly been here when it hasn’t been crazy so this is normal for you, huh?”

“I understand that it’s not normal for a small town with this much drama,” Derek deadpans and Jordan snorts.

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish that we could get more normal things, like B and E’s and maybe a robbery or something.”

“I can go rob the jeweler,” Derek suggests and, like he had hoped, it cracks Jordan up and he forgets about all the weird stuff that has been going on in this town lately.

 

Two days after Lydia went missing Stiles stumbles into Derek’s loft, followed by Erica and Isaac.

“Can you imagine how horrible it must be?”

Stiles throws his backpack on the floor before falling down backwards on the couch making himself comfortable.

“What? I think she likes the attention,” Erica counters and sits down in one of the armchairs – Derek had to buy another one, which Isaac sits down in.

“She likes good attention,” Stiles says, “This is bad attention. She doesn’t like this, not one bit.”

“And you know that how? Have you ever even talked to her?” Erica argues.

“I’m- I’ve talked to her!” Stiles protests.

“Okay, let me ask it like this then; have you talked to her and she’s heard you?”

“What-? How-?”

“Oh, Stiles,” Erica sighs, “I used to have the biggest crush on you but you never even looked my way, only looking at Lydia.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open and Derek decides to break the awkwardness in the room.

He also doesn’t like Erica talking about her crush on Stiles to Stiles.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“What? Are you going to cook for us?” Stiles asks with a blinding smile.

Derek hits him in the back of the head with some takeout menus that have somehow ended up in his apartment.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, but he can’t help but feel that his voice is more fond than anything.

“You’re stupid,” Stiles retorts and it’s the worst retort ever.

Derek doesn’t even dignify it with an answer but lets the takeout menus fall to the table before he goes to do his laundry.

Everyone except Scott joins them for dinner and when Derek asks how he is Stiles looks definitely shifty. Derek gets a foreboding feeling and wonders what that stupid kid has done now.

“He’s got a date with Allison,” Stiles admits after Derek’s been staring at him for quite some time.

“Please tell me that there is more than one Allison at your school and that he’s not dating Allison Argent.”

Derek rubs his eyes and if he was a human he would probably feel a headache coming.

“Why is he dating Allison Argent when I’ve explicitly, and countless times, told him that she would most likely chop him in two if she knew what he is?”

“Whoa, dude! Don’t kill the messenger!” Stiles exclaims and it’s first then that Derek notices that his claws have lengthened and that his eyes are red.

He takes a deep breath and the scents of pack and Stiles calm him down.

“I’m sorry,” he grounds out and the betas all calm down.

He doesn’t notice the exact same change in Stiles, but he does sag back against his seat somewhat. Derek reaches out a hand to touch Erica’s knee, she was the one closest to him and the one who seemed the most affected by his anger. Erica squeezes his hand and Derek notices how Stiles glares at their hands.

“I just don’t understand what he’s doing,” he says.

“He’s in love,” Stiles says. “Have you never been in love?”

Derek glares at him and Stiles mimes zipping his mouth shut.

“Maybe she’s not like her family, or like you claim her family is.”

Derek frowns at Stiles. It sounds as if he doubts what Derek’s been telling them about the Argents.

“They haven’t done anything to anyone of us.”

Stiles motions at the betas.

“You said they had a code, to hunt the ones who hunt them or something, right?”

Derek nods tightly.

“Well, we haven’t hunted them so they won’t hunt us.”

“I’ve told you, they don’t always follow the code. And I don’t want to bare my neck for them because you never know when they’ll strike. They’re unreliable.”

“Allison seems pretty cool though,” Stiles comments and Derek sees red again.

“You’ve talked to her?”

“Duh!” Stiles snaps, his brown eyes glaring at Derek.

“I don’t want you to talk to her,” he tells Stiles.

“Well, I don’t want you to have that stick up your ass. We can’t always get what we want, can we?”

Before Derek has had time to come up with a reply Stiles gets up from the table and shrugs on his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Derek asks, a sudden flare of panic at the thought of Stiles leaving.

“You’re not my dad,” Stiles snaps.

“Stiles,” Derek says and rises from the couch too.

“No!” Stiles points at him. “I’m not one of your betas, okay? You’re not my alpha!”

Stiles slams the door shut on his way out and his words ring in Derek’s ears.

“I-” he starts but doesn’t know what to say so he leaves the living room and goes into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He lies down on his bed and stares into the wall.

You’re not my alpha.

The words mock him as they echo in his head. He covers his ears but they still echo. He doesn’t know how long he lies there but there’s a knock on his door and he can hear the distressed shuffling of his betas outside.

“Come in,” he calls after a long moment of hesitation.

“Can I-?”

It’s Erica who asks as they shuffle as one over the floor until they stand at the side of his bed. Derek knows what they want. After his family died he spent most of his time in bed with Laura and Cora, curling up around each other, seeking comfort from each other. He knows his betas can feel his distress and that they want to comfort him as well as being comforted. He nods and shuffles over to the other side. Even if Derek’s bed is quite large it’s hard to fit four almost grown persons in it, but they manage. Erica is closest to Derek, her back against his chest and Isaac curls up between her and Boyd.

“I could hit him in the head with a carburetor,” Erica suggests and Derek manages to smile slightly at that.

“You don’t need to do that,” he tells her, his grip around her waist tightening slightly. “But thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Derek can tell that she’s grinning and he smiles into her blond looks.

“You’re our alpha at least,” she says and he lets those words lull him to sleep.

 

Derek’s heartache is put on hold when suddenly a man is murdered in an alley. The man was known from leading the high school’s swimming team a few years ago. The neighborhood is nice, not one of the rougher where people barely lifts an eyebrow at a dead body. Jackson lives just a few houses down and is asked about the murder, but he hadn’t seen anything, which doesn’t surprise Derek at all. Jackson is probably too self-absorbed to see if anything weird is going on with one of his neighbors. Because, as it turns out, something weird was going on; the man had been beating his daughter for years. They have no clues for who the murderer is though.

Stiles’ Jeep breaks down and is towered away for reparations. Derek doesn’t hear about this from Stiles because Stiles and Scott both are absent from the pack meetings. The Sheriff though is muttering about having to drive his son to school. Had things been normal Derek would have offered his service but Stiles doesn’t talk to him so Derek doubts Stiles would be pleased if Derek showed up to drive him to school.

Derek’s pack continues to hang out at Derek’s loft and Derek’s happy to have them. They lessen his heartache somewhat. He never thought Stiles would be able to inject himself into Derek’s life so completely and Derek also never thought Stiles would suddenly just leave. Derek doesn’t know what he did wrong there and his pack has no clue either. Erica and Isaac can spend hours trying to come up with colorful ways of getting revenge on Stiles, most often it’s about bodily harm but also public humiliation. Boyd mostly just sighs and rolls his eyes at them. Derek can relate to that feeling even if he’s secretly pleased that they’re taking his side so forcefully in this. They’re good betas.

There’s another murder a few nights later. This time there’s a man and a woman who lived in a trailer in the woods. The woman got away and claimed that the murderer was a giant lizard. No one believed her, except Derek. If there are werewolves, there can be giant lizards, right?

His betas work hard on researching but they don’t find anything. Derek finds himself missing Stiles even more, knowing that the kid knows how to research. He found out a bunch of stuff about werewolves and will probably find out things about giant, murderous lizards as well.

“Maybe we could trick Stiles…” Isaac starts.

He seems to have given up on researching, leaning back in the armchair with his head bent backwards, facing the ceiling, the laptop is still on his knee though.

“You can’t trick Stiles,” Erica scoffs at him from the dinner table. “He’s too smart for that.”

Isaac makes a disgusted, tired noise in the back of his throat.

“I hate that guy,” Isaac grumbles.

“Maybe we can set a trap with Stiles as bait for the lizard man,” Erica suggests and Derek has to give his pack credit for loyalty towards their alpha at least.

 

Derek is distressed to hear from the Sheriff that Stiles was at the garage when one of the mechanics had gotten a car over himself. Stiles had been in the adjoining room, waiting for his car to be ready.

“Is he okay?” Derek asks and the Sheriff shrugs.

“He said he was fine, but… I don’t know, something’s up with that kid lately. Has he said anything to you?”

“We haven’t spoken much lately,” Derek tries to make it sound like they didn’t meet every day before that; that it’s completely normal that they don’t speak to each other for some time.

The Sheriff doesn’t seem to think much of it but grunts and starts talking about possible murder suspects.

 

The pack goes to train in the woods that afternoon. Isaac and Erica goof around, and Derek knows it’s for his benefit and he hates himself a bit for making his heartache so obvious.

“Isaac, watch Boyd’s footwork here,” Derek instructs.

Isaac watches and copies and stumbles on a wet root. Erica cackles with glee and Derek motions for Boyd to attack her. Boyd merely sweeps her off her feet and Erica falls onto her back with an “oof!”

“Why did you do that?”

“Derek told me to,” Boyd replies with a cheeky grin and Derek would let him get away with that excuse even if it hadn’t been true.

“I want a new alpha,” Erica pouts, sitting on the ground.

She throws some leaves at Derek who grins and extends his hand to help her up. She takes his hand and then quickly pulls down as she sweeps her feet against his calves hard. Derek goes down in the most undignified way imaginable. Even Boyd laughs and Derek can’t help but laugh too before he attacks Erica, who shrieks with laughter. The boys join in the fight and they fight on the ground, more rolling around than anything. Derek’s laughing so hard he can barely breathe and his betas seem to be in the same state. Isaac’s laughter is cut off by a yelp of pain and Derek is immediately on alert. He notices the smell of human and wolfsbane. The smell of ashes and death might be his own imagination.

“Go, go, go!” he urges the betas, helping them up and shoving them away from the hunters.

Isaac has an arrow in his leg so Derek helps to support him on that side as they hurry away from the hunters. Derek can feel panic rising in his chest, he doesn’t know how many they are. He knows they are skilled, he wouldn’t put it past them to surround them, as they obviously have no qualms about shooting a teenager. Derek and Isaac catch up to Boyd and Erica who suddenly stop. There are hunters in front of them. Derek jumps in front of his betas, shoving them behind him, as he snarls at the hunters, his face shifting to reveal his fangs and red eyes.

“Have you finally managed to get a family of your own?” one of the dark-dressed hunters teases.

Derek knows her voice, her smell, is too familiar with it even if he hasn’t heard it in years. Six years.

“Leave them alone,” he snarls at her and she chuckles.

Once he thought her laughter was beautiful, now he wants to rip her throat out. He growls at her.

“Such fire,” she taunts. “Kill them!”

“But, Kate, you said we wouldn’t hurt them,” one of the other hunters asks.

It’s a woman, a girl, in the same age as Derek’s betas. She has dark hair and dark eyes, she doesn’t look anything like Kate, who has blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s still beautiful. And deadly, if the crossbow in her hands is anything to go by.

“Change of plans, Allison,” Kate says dismissively and she turns to leave.

“But-”

“Do as I say!”

One of the other hunters fire off an arrow at Erica but Derek manages to catch it with his forearm. There’s no wolfsbane in it, no searing pain, but it still hurts and the wound won’t heal until he’s gotten the arrow out. Other shots are fired, both guns and arrows, and Derek doesn’t manage to catch them all to his body. Derek roars and his betas attack the hunters, smashing their crossbows and throwing away their guns. There’s suddenly an answering roar and the next moment another werewolf join in the fight. With the new, unharmed werewolf on their side, they make a quick work on the hunters that get close to them. The other hunters back off, realizing that they can’t win in hand to hand combat. Derek nods at Scott, who was the new werewolf. He’s about to order his pack to retreat when the girl, Allison, gasps.

“Scott?”

Derek feels like rolling his eyes at the whine Scott lets out, but instead he herds his betas into the woods and he can hear the hunters starting to leave as well. Derek’s glad the only bloodthirsty of them seemed to have been Kate. This time. Someone stumbles out of the underbrush in front of them and Derek snarls before his nose catches the familiar scent and the too-quick, yet familiar heartbeat.

“Oh, my god,” Stiles wheezes and leans against a tree, breathing through an inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks and is in front of him faster than he’d like to admit, even to himself.

“Am I okay?” Stiles asks. “I’m not the one with arrows sticking out of my arms.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that,” Stiles mimics. “Jesus, you look like a porcupine!”

Derek rolls his eyes and sits down on the ground to start to pull the arrows out of his body. He breaks off the head to make it easier to pull out and instructs his betas how to do that.

“Does any of the bullet wounds burn?” he asks them and they shake their heads, to Derek’s relief.

“Wait, where’s Scott?” Stiles suddenly asks and looks around the small clearing where they’re seated.

“He and Allison are talking,” Derek says and listens to hear if they’re still talking.

They’re not, he can hear someone walking back to them, even the sound of Scott’s footsteps is dejected.

“Allison?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah, she was one of the hunters who just cornered us and shot us like some kind of war execution,” Isaac snaps at him as Boyd helps him get an arrow out of his back. “Careful!”

“Quit whining,” Erica snaps at them.

Derek growls at them all to shut up.

“So Allison is…”

“Just like her family,” Derek finishes Stiles’ sentence and Stiles looks sad at that.

Scott comes into the clearing, looking lost and close to crying.

“Well, I’ve got to play my part as best buddy,” Stiles says and claps Derek’s shoulder. “See you, guys!”

He and Scott leave and Derek and his pack let them get far away enough before they leave too.

 

Derek is helping Erica with her math the next day – Boyd is on trivia team training or whatever it is they do when they meet, Derek has never bothered to ask – when the door to his loft slams open.

“What are you doing here?” Erica growls at Stiles who looks surprised at her angry tone.

“I- I thought I was welcomed.”

Stiles shuffles towards the door, all confidence leaking out of him.

“Erica,” Derek reprimands and she huffs.

Derek gets up and walks over to Stiles.

“You are welcome. It’s just last time you were here you left in quiet a hurry.”

“Yeah, about that…”

Stiles scratches the back of his neck, something Derek knows he’s doing when he’s trying to come up with something to say, when he’s nervous or stalling for time.

“I’m sorry?” Stiles tries and Isaac snorts.

“It would sound better if you didn’t have the question mark at the end,” he tells Stiles from the couch and Derek agrees silently.

“Seriously, I am… sorry,” Stiles says, looking down at the floor, then looking up, meeting Derek’s eyes for just a quick moment before looking down again. Derek knows he’s sorry even though he’s not quite sure what Stiles’ outburst came from. He can’t help but feel the corner of his lips threaten tug upwards.

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells Stiles, who gives him a quick smile. God, Derek’s missed him.

“Okay, so I know I’m not pack or anything,” Stiles continues. “But I thought we can be friends anyway, right? All of us?”

He glares at the back of Isaac’s head at the last words.

“You can be pack,” Derek tells him and Stiles’ mouth falls open in surprise and then snaps shut again.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that and I mean, it would be cool to run without getting tired and doing all those backflips you guys seem to favor but I prefer staying human.”

“Stiles, you can be part of the pack and be human,” Derek tells Stiles.

He thought he’d already told Stiles this, but maybe he hadn’t.

“I can?” Stiles looks both surprised and happy. “Is it rude of me to ask if I can think about it?”

Derek shakes his head, though he feels rather disappointed.

“I have to talk to Scott.”

Derek walks him over to the couch and kicks away Isaac’s feet from the table. Stiles sags down in the cushions and grin at Isaac.

“Speaking of,” Derek interrupts what will probably be a very immature fight between the two, one that will most likely end in Stiles bleeding. “Where is Scott?”

“He was at school today,” Erica says and is on her way to pack up her books.

“Are you done with everything?” Derek asks, giving her a pointed stare.

She sags under his gaze and huffs.

“But it’s so hard,” she whines.

“What’s the problem?” Stiles asks and gets up from the couch and over to the dinner table. “Ah, I did this years ago.”

Erica glares at him and Stiles winces at his own words.

“So, what do you know so far?” he asks and pulls up a chair so he can sit next to him.

“Scott,” Derek reminds Stiles and the kid almost startles.

Derek snorts and Isaac snickers. Derek kicks Isaac’s leg.

“Oh, right, he’s moping. Probably in bed hugging an Allison shaped pillow, crying to My heart will go on.”

“And singing along,” Isaac interjects.

“Hey! Only I’m allowed to make fun of Scott,” Stiles glares at him and Isaac rolls his eyes. “But yeah, he’s most likely singing along at some parts.”

Stiles turns to Erica’s math books again and Isaac gives Derek a smaller, more genuine smile than his usual, faked grins.

“I’m glad mommy and daddy aren’t fighting anymore,” he tells Derek in such a low voice that Stiles won’t hear it.

Erica though snorts on a laugh and Stiles glares at them for disrupting her focus. Derek kicks at Isaac’s foot again.

“Stop being so stereotypical,” Derek tells him and Isaac’s only answer is to grin at him.

Derek turns his head away so his fond smile doesn’t show.

 

Stiles has, in fact, managed to find out what the lizard man is.

“It’s a kanima,” he explains and sighs when Derek and his betas all look questioningly at him. “Oh, my god. Look.”

Stiles grabs his backpack and pulls out a notebook. He frowns as he thumbs through the book, sometimes stopping to read before moving on.

“Okay, here:

“Like the wolf, its power is greatest at the moon’s peak. Like the wolf, the Kanima is a social creature but where the wolf seeks a pack the Kanima seeks a master.

“The Kanima, a weapon of vengeance, is used to carry out the bidding of its master. The Kanima was once used by a South American priest who took it upon himself to rid his village of all murderers. The bond between master and servant grew stronger until the will of the master became that of the Kanima's and whomever the priest deemed unworthy, the Kanima served his vengeance.

The Kanima is a mutation of the werewolf gene that cannot fully transform until it resolves that in its past which manifest it.”

“So the kanima is a werewolf gone wrong?” Erica asks and Stiles nods.

“And it has a master?”

Stiles nods again.

“Who?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“How did you find this?” Derek asks and grabs Stiles’ notebook to read the text again.

“Gerard Argent’s bestiary,” Stiles replies with a smirk and Derek pales.

“Gerard is here? In Beacon Hills?”

“Yeah, he’s the new headmaster,” Erica replies with a shrug.

“And you failed to mention this to me?” Derek almost snarls at her.

“You’re in trouble,” Stiles sing-songs at the betas and Derek turns his glare on him.

“And you! You thought it was a good idea to steal from one of the most feared werewolf hunters in the world?!”

“Hey, relax, nothing happened,” Stiles says and Derek wants to bang his or Stiles’ head into something.

He settles for rubbing his eyebrows.

“No one has any interaction with any of the Argents without telling me about it, okay?” he orders his betas.

“Jeez, you need to relax, dude,” Stiles grumbles and Derek glares at him. “So, you want to discuss kanimas or are you going to ground your puppies?”

“Don’t call us puppies!”

Derek holds up his hand against Isaac’s chest to keep the beta from attacking Stiles.

“Dear lord,” he mutters, but there’s still a hint of fondness in his voice that he can’t hide.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Stiles says. “It could be Lydia. She was bitten but she’s not a werewolf.”

“She’s something,” Derek agrees and Stiles frowns down at his notes in his lap.

“So how do we find out if she’s the kanima?” Erica asks. “Kidnap her?”

Derek shrugs and Stiles glares.

“Kidnap Lydia Martin? Seriously?”

He sighs at his notes.

“Wait, so the kanima should be unaffected by its own venom, right?”

“Presumably,” Derek nods. “How do we get kanima venom? You don’t happen to have that lying around, do you?”

Stiles stares down at his notes, but he’s not reading them, his mind is working furiously, Derek can tell. He likes that look on Stiles, his pink lips pouting and brow furrowed.

“The kanima was at the garage, when the mechanic was killed.”

“How do you know?” Derek asks and Stiles raises an eyebrow at him.

“I saw it.”

“You saw it?”

“Yeah, it… the poison paralyzes the body.”

“You were paralyzed? Stiles, why didn’t you tell me?”

Derek reaches out a hand to touch Stiles’ arm and the boy looks up at him, he looks scared, but determined.

“Because you would get that look on your face,” Stiles replies and looks away.

“What look?”

“The look that says you want to lock him away so he won’t ever get hurt again,” Erica replies. “You got the same look when the Argents attacked us.”

“Well, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Derek looks at all his betas and Stiles in turn.

“Any of you. And it’s my job to protect-”

“Hey, we can protect ourselves,” Erica argues. “And we want to protect you too.”

Derek snorts at her and she shuffles in between Derek and Isaac.

“We don’t want anything to happen to you either. That’s pack, right? Protecting each other?”

Derek leans his head against Erica’s and smiles into her soft, flowery-scented hair.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, that’s cute and all, but kanima,” Stiles says. “There’s probably venom left at the garage. Unless it, like, vaporizes or something.”

“Let’s go there and get some then,” Isaac says.

“Okay, you and Stiles can go,” Derek decides. “But be careful, don’t touch it, okay?”

“How are we going to get it without touching it?”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Amateur. I’ve got some stuff I’ve stolen from dad’s job.”

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” Derek replies and Stiles smiles like a Cheshire cat.

Stiles and Isaac leave soon after to go to the garage. Derek has no doubt that Stiles will manage to explain to the mechanics what they’re doing there, he’ll probably say that it’s some kind of school work and no one will ask any questions about it unless they want a long, detailed answer. And people usually don’t want those.

Stiles calls about an hour later, saying that they’ve got some venom.

“Now we only have to get it on Lydia to see if she is the kanima,” Stiles says like it’s that simple.

And to Stiles it might be that.

 

Derek is kind of a wreck the next day when the betas and Stiles are at school. He knows they’re going to give the venom to Lydia sometime during the day but he doesn’t know when or how.

“It’s better if you don’t know, officer of the law and all that,” Stiles had said and Derek could kind of understand that but at the same time he really didn’t want to be put in the dark.

He gets a text from Stiles in the afternoon that says, She doesn’t react. Kanima sighted!

The text doesn’t make Derek relax at all. He has no idea what the teens are planning and it’s making him nervous. He hopes it’s not something stupid.

It most likely is.

He’s glad that he’s on paperwork duty this day, it doesn’t need much brain activity and he can worry about the kanima and his pack without it disrupting his work. Tara, who’s working a desk over, gives him worried glances every now and then, and once asks, “Are you alright, dear?” when Derek’s been staring at the same paper for over five minutes.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just got a lot on my mind.”

Tara nods and smiles.

“If you want someone to vent to, my door’s always opened.”

She looks around the desk area, they don’t have any doors or even walls between them.

“Well, my metaphorical door.”

Derek chuckles at the lame joke and she smiles at him.

“Thanks.”

When he gets home from work he can tell that his apartment is already filled with teenagers. When he steps inside he’s met by his pack along with Stiles, Scott and an unimpressed Lydia Martin. Her red hair is in perfect curls and the worry and fear from the last time Derek saw her is nowhere to be seen.

“So you’re the leader of this cult?” she asks, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah, he’s papa bear,” Stiles grins and Derek gives him an unamused glare.

“Care to tell me what I’m doing here?”

Derek sighs and rubs his eyes.

“You do know that kidnapping is against the law, right?” Lydia asks.

“He is the law, of course he knows,” Stiles tells her. “Look, we want to keep you safe okay? There are… uh… bad things out there.”

“And I’m safe here?”

Lydia arches an eyebrow at Stiles who nods, though he looks anything but certain.

“What do we do if she changes here?” Boyd asks Derek in a whisper and that thought had crossed Derek’s mind too.

“I don’t even know why we brought her here,” Isaac admits.

“Can’t we just get something to eat?” Scott asks and that’s the best plan he’s had yet.

They order pizza and then they do their homework. Derek is surprised to see that Lydia is really smart. Like genius-smart. He did not expect that from someone who seems to care so much about her appearance.

“So did you have a hand in turning Erica Reyes into a sex bomb?” Lydia asks Derek when he passes her on his way to the kitchen.

Derek looks at Erica who smiles down in her books. He shakes his head. Derek saw the picture of her when she went missing and that mousy girl looked nothing like Erica does now. She wears high heels and showing off as much cleavage she can. Her hair is different too, instead of hanging in long stripes, half-covering her face, she curls it and lets it frame her face. She also wears a lot of makeup and seems to prefer red lipstick.

“She did that all on her own,” Derek says and smiles.

It’s all about the confidence she got when she turned, the knowledge that she wouldn’t have an epilepsy attack at any time of the day.

Lydia sighs and pouts slightly. Derek can understand why Stiles likes her, she’s very pretty with her green, big eyes and big, pouty lips.

Derek wants to rearrange her pretty face so Stiles won’t like her anymore.

He hurries out into the kitchen so he won’t do anything stupid. Like challenging her to a duel.

“Are you okay?”

It’s Erica who comes up behind him as he leans his hands against the counter. She circles her arms around his waist and leans her cheek against his shoulder.

“Do you want me to kick her ass? Because I can, you know.”

Derek smiles and leans his cheek against her hair.

“Yeah, I know. You’re a warrior princess.”

“I’m Catwoman,” Erica replies cheekily.

Derek turns and hugs her. Erica buries her face in his chest and breathes in deeply.

“You smell really good, has someone ever told you that?”

Derek snorts and is about to reply when Stiles stumbles into the kitchen.

“Have you guys-? Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll just- yeah…”

He leaves and Derek frowns in confusion.

“What was that all about?”

“He’s jealous, of course,” Erica smirks and Derek clenches his jaw.

Of course Stiles wants Erica now that she’s changed. He would probably succeed in getting her too, if he tried. She’s said she’s not in love with him anymore, but Derek’s certain she would fall again if Stiles wanted her to.

“Don’t make that stupid face,” Erica says and boxes his stomach before she leaves.

Derek follows her and is about to sit down when his phone rings. He wonders what Jordan wants when he sees the caller ID.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, so I was thinking of having a game night or something,” Jordan says.

“Couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” Derek snorts.

“I’m afraid I’d forget it by then,” Jordan replies.

Derek can hear the sound of footsteps on gravel, Jordan’s probably out walking, he apparently does that sometimes.

“You in?” Jordan asks and Derek affirms.

His pack can manage without him one night.

“There’s a game on Saturday if you want to- hang on!”

Derek hears Jordan lowering the phone and calling out to someone else.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Derek strains to hear, but doesn’t hear anyone answering Jordan.

“Hey! What are-? What the fuck-? Shit!”

“Jordan!” Derek calls out, getting the attention of his pack.

He can hear the sound of the phone falling to the ground and then silence.

“Jordan!” Derek calls out again.

“Derek!” Jordan calls. “Derek, can you hear me? There was a- fuck, I don’t know, a giant lizard. I can’t move. Derek! Can you hear me?”

Derek turns to watch Lydia, who’s still there, not a giant lizard that had just attacked Derek’s colleague. Lydia arches her eyebrows at him. His betas have heard the phone call and await his orders.

“She’s not the kanima,” he states rather dumbly as his brain comes up with a quick plan of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought about having them talk about why Stiles gets angry every now and then but it didn't feel right. In reality we don't always talk about the stuff that upsets us, especially not when the other involved party is someone you like romantically so they don't talk about stuff because they're realistic, stupid boys.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the longest chapter yet. Also, the worst cliffie at the end, I'm sorry ~~not sorry~~
> 
> A huge thanks to my lovely beta Beth
> 
> A fair warning for this chapter with mentions of torture and a quite dramatic game of Russian roulette.
> 
> Also, it was pointed out to me that Stiles was kind of an asshole when he apologized for his anger in the last chapter. I agree with that comment and have made some small adjustments so his apology sounds more sincere because it was never my intention that he'd come across as an asshole. This scene doesn't really matter to the rest of the story so you don't have to go back and read it unless you want to. I hope the person who pointed this out to me likes the new version better. Thanks for letting me know about that, hplover! :)

“What’s going on?” Lydia asks but no one answers her, the betas awaiting Derek’s orders. ~~~~

“Okay. Isaac, you stay here with Stiles and Lydia-”

“What? Why do I have to stay?” Stiles whines.

“Because I need you to keep Lydia company,” Derek says.

Stiles looks like he’s about to argue before he sags down in the couch cushions. The others leave the apartment and head for Derek’s car.

“You need a bigger car,” Scott grunts as he and Erica manage to fit themselves into the barely there backseat of the Camaro.

Derek doesn’t dignify that one with an answer. He calls the station to see if they can track down Jordan’s phone.

“It’s a surprise,” he tells Clint on the other end as a reason.

“He’s at Fifth, in one of the alleys,” Clint replies after some time.

“Okay, thanks, I owe you one,” Derek says before he hangs up and speeds towards the alley.

When they get there they see a figure lying on the ground and when they hurry there it’s clear that it’s Jordan.

“Hey, guys!” he says with mock bravado. “So I’m paralyzed.”

“I know,” Derek says and looks around for the kanima.

He catches a distant scent that makes him think of reptiles, most likely the kanima.

“Scott, Boyd, search the alley,” he orders and bends to pick up Jordan.

“Hey, you can’t- whoa, you’re strong,” Jordan says as Derek gets him into the passenger seat.

“Erica, go with the boys and get back home as soon as you’ve cleared this area, okay?”

Erica nods and heads into the alley.

“What? You’re just going to leave them here?” Jordan asks, not even able to turn his head to look at Derek in disbelief even if Derek can tell that he wants to.

Derek doesn’t answer Jordan but drives him to Derek’s place.

“This is so humiliating,” Jordan mutters as Derek picks him up bridal style and carries him inside. “Care to tell me why you’re not taking me to the hospital?”

“The paralysis will wear off soon, don’t worry.”

He drops Jordan rather unceremoniously on the couch, forgetting that Jordan doesn’t have the regular neck strength to keep his head up.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, Jordan,” Stiles grins and steps up into view for Jordan.

“Care to tell me why I can’t move, as you seem to know about it?”

Jordan’s eyes move to Derek who sits down in the armchair.

“Yeah, I would like to hear that story as well,” Lydia chimes in and sits down in the other armchair, glaring at Derek. “These two,” she motions at Stiles and Isaac who take place on the floor and both smile innocently up at her, “don’t know anything.”

“Oh, we know plenty!” Stiles interrupts, “I wasn’t sure the alpha wanted us to tell you about it though.”

Stiles is using the term alpha with a gleam in his eye and as if he’s describing Derek as some kind of mafia boss. Derek has no doubt the kid thinks he’s hilarious.

“The alpha?” both Jordan and Lydia ask.

“Mhm,” Stiles nods, “the great and powerful Alpha.”

“Stiles.”

Derek rubs his forehead to cover his embarrassment at Stiles’ mocking. He wonders where to start explaining.

“Okay, what do you guys want to know?” he asks at last.

“Who’s the alpha?” Jordan asks and at the same time Lydia asks, “What’s a kanima?”

They look at each other and Lydia stares Jordan down. Derek’s not surprised at all that she managed to do that.

“Stiles, this is your area of expertise.”

“Okay, so a kanima is a large, scaly lizard thing – you’ve seen it, Jordan. It’s a werewolf gone wrong you can say.”

“Werewolf?” Jordan echoes. “Are you guys fucking with me? Because if you’re just playing a prank while I’m paralyzed I’m going to- oh, I can move my toes.”

“Yeah, like Derek said, the paralysis wears off after a while,” Stiles says. “And I guess we should have started with answering the alpha question.”

Stiles seems to think a bit but before Derek can even ask what he’s thinking about he’s opening his mouth and starts to explain.

“So you know werewolves? Not so much mythical and unreal, but quite real actually.”

“Stilinski, you want me to believe that-”

Lydia’s mouth falls open in chock as Derek shifts, his eyes flashing red and his teeth lengthening into fangs. He knows his face shifts too, he can feel it rearranging, the sideburns growing and his nose changing.

“I will never stop wondering where your eyebrows disappear off to.”

Stiles reaches over to poke at Derek’s forehead but before his finger makes connection with Derek’s forehead Derek shifts back so Stiles’ finger touches his normal forehead.

“And there they are,” Stiles smiles and Derek rolls his eyes.

“So werewolf, huh?” Jordan asks and his heart is beating rather quick, Derek realizes when he tunes in on him.

“Yeah, werewolf,” Derek agrees.

Jordan turns to Stiles.

“You too?”

“No, I’m just regular human being. Isaac, here, is a werewolf too though. Along with Scott, Erica and Boyd.”

“And Derek’s the alpha,” Lydia says and Derek nods.

“What does that mean?” Jordan asks.

“It means I’m the leader,” Derek says. “I can turn others into werewolves with a bite…”

“Were you the one who bit me?” Lydia gasps and for the first time Derek can see some fear in her.

“No, that alpha is dead. We- I killed it.”

“And bit the others?” Jordan asks.

“I haven’t bitten anyone. The other alpha bit them all before we got rid of him.”

“Okay, so werewolves are real,” Jordan whispers in disbelief. “What’s with the lizard then?”

Derek nods at Stiles to explain.

“So the lizard – kanima – is a werewolf in turmoil with something in its past-”

“And you thought I was the kanima?” Lydia asks, incredulous.

“You were bitten but you didn’t turn,” Stiles explains, “we gave you venom from the kanima and nothing happened. You might not be a kanima, but you’re something alright.”

Lydia swallows but doesn’t say anything so Stiles continues.

“The kanima uses its venom to paralyze victims. Or, as we’ve come to learning by doing – or yeah, you know,” Stiles waves a hand at Jordan, “been there, too, buddy. It uses venom to get people out of the way, people it’s not supposed to kill.”

“It kills too?”

Stiles nods.

“Which brings me to the next point on the agenda; the kanima has a master, someone who tells it whom to kill.”

“And we have no idea who that master is,” Isaac supplies, earning himself glares from both Derek and Stiles. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Well, luckily you have me on your side now,” Lydia smiles at them and Derek doesn’t know if they should be lucky because of that or not.

“And me,” Jordan says, “when I can move again.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll come back,” Stiles tells him.

When the betas and Scott come back they reveal that they have found nothing, no traces of the kanima at all. It’s unsurprising but irritating.

 

Jordan doesn’t seem scared of Derek after he’s revealed that he’s a werewolf. Jordan takes it surprisingly well, asking questions about werewolves and other mythical creatures.

“Unicorns,” he says when they meet up to have a late lunch the next day before going on the evening shift.

“I have no idea,” Derek answers, “Probably not.”

“Damn, I would’ve loved to see one.”

“You do know that according to the myth they only like virgins, right?”

Jordan sniffs.

“I could be untouched.”

Derek snorts and kicks him under the table, picking up his hamburger.

“You could, but I don’t think you are.”

“You’re right, I’m not. I was fifteen and came too fast,” Jordan replies, no qualms what so ever about stating it out loud over dinner.

“Didn’t we all?” Derek replies and tries not to think of his first time.

Jordan snorts into his drink and Derek’s glad he has Jordan.

“So what’s up with Stiles?” Jordan asks.

“God only knows,” Derek replies, finishing off his burger.

“You seemed pretty relaxed around each other yesterday,” Jordan says and slurps on his coke.

“Yeah, we’re friends, I guess.”

“But nothing more.”

“But nothing more,” Derek agrees with a sigh.

“Let’s get out of here and to the station. Hopefully we’ll find something fun to do that’ll get your mind off innocent teenagers.”

Derek snorts as he follows Jordan out to his car.

“Stiles is anything but innocent.”

“How do you know?” Jordan grins at him and Derek realizes that Jordan is talking about innocence as in virgin rather than not doing illegal stuff.

“You’re right, I don’t, but I prefer him being untouched, or what did you call it?”`

They get in the car and Jordan starts to drive down to the station.

“Possessive much?”

There’s no malice in Jordan’s words though so Derek flashes him some fangs which makes Jordan let out a surprised laugh.

“Is the possessiveness a werewolf thing or a you thing?”

Derek shrugs.

“I’m not… I think it’s a werewolf thing, you know? We want to keep those of ours safe and… yeah… But we’re not savages. Sure, there have probably been some werewolves that can’t accept a no but there have been humans that can’t do that either so it’s just about the persons, I think.”

“Are there like secret societies for werewolves? Like conventions? Wait, is Comic con actually real supernatural creatures pretending to pretend to be supernatural creatures?”

Derek laughs at that and kind of hopes that Jordan and Stiles will never get to know each other better, Derek is certain that that way lies madness. For him mostly.

They arrive at the station and just change cars from Jordan’s scrapheap to the police cruiser before they are out driving again, this time with Derek behind the wheel.

It’s close to ten when they get a call to one of the local clubs. At first they think it’s just a regular fight or something but then the dispatcher says something about paralysis and Derek steps on the gas to make it there as quickly as possible. There are already ambulances and police cars there. Derek sees the unmistakable blue jeep that belongs to Stiles and wants to sigh in frustration. They’re not old enough to legally go to a club so Derek has no idea what they’re doing here but he doubts it’s anything good.

He steps out of the car and sees Stiles and Scott sitting in the car, arguing. There’s too much noise for Derek to discern what they’re saying. He starts to make his way over to them but before he’s reached them the sheriff comes up to him.

“Derek, do you mind-?”

The Sheriff cuts himself off.

“What is my son doing here?”`

“I was just about to ask him that,” Derek says and can hear Stiles swearing inside the car, probably having seen them.

He stumbles out and makes his way over to them, Scott waiting in the car, staring at them. Derek has no idea what they’re up to but he doubts it’s anything good.

“Not exactly your type of club,” The Sheriff says when Stiles is in front of them.

“Well, dad, there’s a conversation we need to have.”

Stiles rubs the back of his head.

“Jungle is a gay club,” Jordan supplies into Derek’s ear, which makes Derek understand what the Sheriff meant at least.

“You’re not gay,” the Sheriff states in a tired voice.

“I could be!” Stiles claims.

“Not dressed like that,” the Sheriff says.

Stiles makes motions at his clothes and looks too offended to speak. Derek understands why Stiles takes offense; Derek takes offense by the Sheriff’s words.

“Go home and make sure not to get into any trouble on the way there,” the Sheriff orders before dismissing his son, who hurries back to his car.

Derek and Jordan trail after the Sheriff back to the ambulances.

“Sir, I don’t mean disrespect,” Jordan says with a quick look at Derek, “but it’s rather stereotypical of you to think that all gay men-”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” the Sheriff hurries to say. “Stiles has been in love with Lydia Martin since he was seven, that’s more than ten years so if he’s moved on I’m glad for him. But if he did go to a gay club to pick someone up he’d never dress like that. He wanted to rent a tux for Lydia’s sixteenth birthday party. Which sixteen year old wants to rent a tuxedo?”

Derek snorts and feels a lot calmer. Jordan claps his shoulder before they get to work. Unsurprisingly the kanima is nowhere in sight and Derek thinks it’s useless of them to search the club for any signs of gas or liquid that could have been used to paralyze those people – there are five in total.

Derek is rather tired when they get back to the station and he gets even more tired when one of the vans they use for heavy criminals is missing. Especially since he can smell both Stiles and Scott all over the place.

“Tell me they didn’t steal a police van,” Derek mumbles as he bangs his head into the wall.

“Who did?” Jordan asks and pats his shoulder.

“Stiles and Scott. Stupid idiots.”

He calls Stiles who picks up on the first ring.

“He-ey, Derek, what’s up, my man?”

“Why have you stolen a police van?” Derek growls at him and he hears Stiles gulps at the other end of the line.

“The less you know-”

“Stiles! I can’t believe- Why would you steal a police car? That’s illegal!”

“We have the kanima!” Stiles tells him in a rush.

“What? Stiles, where are you?”

“We’ve got it under control, okay? Just trust me!”

“Trust you-”

Before Derek can tell Stiles just what he thinks of trusting them with this idea Stiles hangs up.

“Fuck.”

“I don’t have the same supernatural hearing so I might have heard it wrong,” Jordan says from his side, “But do they have the kanima?”

Derek nods.

“In a police van,” Jordan mumbles. “Are you sure you like that kid? He seems rather stupid.”

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t think he’s thinking at all,” Derek says, but he’s still got a fond smile on his lips.

“You’ve got it bad,” Jordan grins. “Come on, let’s try to stall the boss finding out that his son stole the car.”

 

The next morning a harassed Mr. Whittemore comes into the station, claiming his son is missing.

“And he sent me this text!”

He shoves the phone into the Sheriff’s face.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I love you,” The Sheriff reads from the screen.

“My son never says I love you,” Mr. Whittemore tells him. “Something’s wrong.”

“Okay, new priority,” the Sheriff announces, “Find Jackson Whittemore.”

“Five guesses to where he is,” Derek mutters.

“My guess is in a stolen police van,” Jordan mumbles back. “Fuck, those kids are going to be the death of me. Do I have gray hairs?”

“Yeah, you do,” Derek answers without even looking and Jordan makes a sad noise. “Come on, we need to find them.”

Jackson comes home a few hours later and states that Scott and Stiles kidnapped him.

“I want a restraining order!” he shrieks.

Derek wonders if he could get away with locking the kid in a cell. He doubts any of his colleagues would really mind, it’s just that they’re supposed to follow the law and it’s illegal to lock someone away without reason. Instead they have to watch Jackson walk away from there with a pleased smirk on his face, a restraining order against Stiles and Scott.

“They’re unbelievable,” the Sheriff swears and locks himself into his office.

Derek can feel a headache blooming and he agrees wholeheartedly with the Sheriff.

Jordan drops him off at is apartment, squeezing his shoulder before Derek gets out of his car.

“We’ll figure something out,” he promises and Derek hopes they will.

He’s been working the whole night and is now so tired he’s almost cross-eyed. When he comes in he finds his betas there.

“I’m going to bed,” he announces and they nod, looking up from their homework. “Can you order something in a few hours and wake me up then?”

They nod again and Derek’s out like a light the moment his head touches his pillow.

 

He’s awoken a few hours later by Stiles, who’s sitting at his bedside.

“Hey,” Stiles says and Derek groans.

He’s still too tired to be able to have this conversation. He wants to pull Stiles to his chest and drift back to sleep with the boy in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers.

Derek feels something tug in his chest at the words, but he’s not ready to forgive Stiles just yet.

“You better be. What did your dad say?”

“I’m grounded.”

Derek snorts.

“What are you doing here then?”

“He’s at work. It was stupid, I know that.”

Derek nods in agreement.

“Dad was so angry,” he continues. “And I understand him, I do, but we just… I don’t know, we thought we could talk to Jackson to make him realize what was wrong and he’d maybe, I don’t know, become a real werewolf.”

Derek makes a noise to show he’s still listening.

“When did he even get bitten? Did you bite him?”

“Of course not!”

“And you didn’t talk to your sister about it?”

Derek shakes his head.

“Being a werewolf and being a part of a pack need you to be a team player, Jackson is not, he’s probably the most self-absorbed person I’ve ever met.”

Stiles chuckles.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a douche.”

Derek nods and almost drifts off again.

“So the pizza is almost here, mind if I stay a bit? Everyone else is mad at me and Scott is mooning over Allison.”

“Sure.”

Derek moves away slightly on the bed and Stiles lies down next to him, staring up in the ceiling.

“They are talking again, Allison and Scott. I think it would be best if he stayed away from her, right? She did shot at you guys.”

Derek nods.

“I don’t trust the Argents,” he admits, “I did once and… it ended bad, really bad.”

“What happened?”

Derek hesitates, the hurt and grief are still there, will probably never disappear, but he also feels calm and safe now. Laura and Cora have told him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was Kate all along.

“My family died,” he says at last and Stiles gasps in the darkness.

“I thought it was an accident,” he whispers.

“The investigation was closed, I think the Argents paid someone to keep quiet.”

“That’s horrible. Why don’t you make them open it up again now? My dad could help you.”

“It won’t do no good,” Derek sighs.

Stiles sighs too.

“You’re such a cheery wolf,” he mutters and Derek smiles into darkness, doesn’t even try to conceal it because Stiles won’t see it anyway.

“Do you want to cuddle?” Stiles asks out of the blue and Derek almost chokes on nothing in his surprise. “Like, nothing weird, just, cuddling.”

Derek nods and has barely held out his arm before he has Stiles plastered against his side, Stiles’ head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not like… like that, but this is nice,” Stiles whispers. “I like cuddling.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Derek agrees and tightens his hand around Stiles’ shoulders.

Stiles’ hair smells great and Derek wants to bury his nose in it but he manages to keep his head on his pillow.

“Thank you,” Stiles whispers and Derek doesn’t know what for, but he’s thankful too.

He feels calmer than he’s done in a long time. He feels safe.

He wakes up hours later, Stiles is still against his side, sleeping with his mouth slightly opened. Derek detangles Stiles form him carefully so he won’t wake him up. When he steps out in the living room Boyd blinks up at him from the couch.

“There’s pizza in the fridge, we didn’t want to wake you guys up. You always wake up when we just enter the room but you didn’t now so we figured you needed the sleep.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Derek says and squeezes Boyd’s shoulder. “Are you staying the night?”

Boyd shakes his head.

“I’m just watching this show and then I’ll head home. Erica left half an hour ago.”

Derek nods and eats the pizza cold next to Boyd on the couch. When he’s almost eaten the pizza Stiles stumbles out, his hair more tousled than usual and his whole appearance tired.

“I should head home.”

“You can stay,” Derek says. “I have a couch.”

“And a bed,” Boyd supplies.

“Isn’t that weird?” Stiles asks and Boyd shrugs.

“Not for werewolves,” Derek says and it seems like that makes Stiles decide what to do.

“Okay, I’ll just call my dad.”

Unsurprisingly, the Sheriff sounds less than pleased that Stiles isn’t at home, but he sounds calmer when Stiles says he’s at Derek’s place.

“He wants to talk to you.”

Stiles holds out the phone for Derek before he goes to get some pizza from the fridge.

“Sir?” Derek answers.

“Is he okay?” the Sheriff asks.

“Yeah, he’s… He seems to regret it.”

“I hope he does,” the Sheriff sighs. “Take care of him, alright?”

“I will.”

They hang up and soon after Boyd leaves. Derek fetches a t-shirt and some sweatpants for Stiles to sleep in and Stiles takes them to change in the bathroom. Derek changes into a t-shirt of his own and sweatpants before crawling underneath the covers. He’s almost asleep when Stiles comes back.

“So we’re doing this. Okay. Yeah.”

Stiles’ heart is beating quicker than usual but Derek doesn’t mention it. He’s got a king-sized bed, there’s plenty of room for both of them without making it weird. Stiles settles in the bed with his back to Derek and Derek starts to drift off but is awaken when Stiles moves and punches the pillow. This repeats itself a numerous of times before Derek snaps.

“Can you just stay still?”

“Sorry,” Stiles grunts. “I’m not used to sleep in other people’s beds.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Derek asks and Stiles turns to look at him even if it’s too dark for him to really see anything – Derek can barely make out Stiles’ features.

“No!” he hisses.

“Then what do you want me to do? Hit you over the head?”

“Ha, ha,” Stiles says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

They lie silent and still for a while and Derek thinks that’s it, but then he hears Stiles opening his mouth a couple of times without saying anything. Derek’s too tired to wait it out.

“What?”

“Maybe we could, you know, cuddle? I could fall asleep earlier, right?”

Derek doesn’t need to be asked twice, he shuffles closer to Stiles and then waits for Stiles to decide how they should lie. First Stiles lies facing Derek, tugging on Derek’s arm until his hand is placed on Stiles’ waist. He only lies like that for a few minutes before he turns around, presenting his back to Derek. He snuggles close, almost too close, Derek has to turn his hips slightly so Stiles’ ass won’t end up against his crotch because that would be embarrassing for both of them. His chest is pressed against Stiles’ back though and he can feel Stiles’ breathing and heartbeat as well as hear them.

“Is this okay?” Stiles asks and Derek grunts in affirmative into his neck, taking deep breaths of Stiles’ intoxicating scent. “Okay. Good night then.”

“Good night, Stiles.”

It’s almost ridiculous how quickly Stiles falls asleep when he’s in Derek’s arms and Derek can’t help but feel smug about it as he lies awake, listening to Stiles’ breathing and heartbeat. He closes his eyes and drifts off as well.

 

Derek wakes up first the next morning. He’s on his front with Stiles pressed all along his back, something hard poking at his upper thigh, almost where his thigh ends and his ass begins. As quickly and carefully as possible he manages to get out from under Stiles before the boy wakes up. He takes a cold shower and tries to think unsexy thoughts but ends up jacking off at last anyway. He can’t just forget about Stiles’ morning wood pressing against his almost-ass. Stiles is still asleep when he gets out of the shower and as it’s a Sunday Derek lets him be and prepares breakfast instead.

His pack comes over, as if they can smell the pancakes from their own homes, and Derek ends up having to do thrice as many as he originally planned. Stiles comes into the kitchen just before the pancakes are ready. He’s sleep-tousled and still in his sleeping wear. Derek would like to have every morning like this, waking up next to Stiles and preparing breakfast for Stiles.

“If this is going to be reoccurring thing I think I need a bigger house,” Derek comments as he serves his betas and Stiles pancakes.

“Stop complaining,” Erica’s voice is muffled from the pancake she’s already stuffed into her mouth, “You love having us here and caring for us.”

Derek smiles and squeezes the back for her neck. She makes a pleased sound and leans her head against his stomach before he lets go and moves to take a seat in between Boyd and Isaac.

“I wish we could have pancakes every morning,” Isaac tells his plate full of pancakes and syrup.

“You’d get diabetes,” Stiles tells him. “Werewolves can still get diabetes, right?”

“We have higher metabolism,” Derek says, “but if a werewolf eats enough pancakes and syrup then he’d get fat too. I’m sorry, Isaac.”

Isaac pouts but then he eats all his pancakes with a smile anyway.

They spend most of the day discussing how to handle the kanima situation.

“Scott’s been talking to Allison a bit about it,” Stiles admits. “I don’t know what she’s doing with the information, if she passes it to her family. She seems nice but…”

“She shot us,” Erica reminds him and he nods with a sigh.

“Yeah, she shot you.”

“What about Lydia?” Derek asks and they all turn towards Stiles. “Can’t she help Jackson?”

“They’ve broken up,” Stiles says but he doesn’t seem to be happy about it, like Derek had expected.

“What about the kanima’s master then?” Boyd asks. “I find that one rather scary too. If he or she wants one of us dead…”

Derek nods. The whole thing with the kanima is unsettling, to say the least. Derek only hopes the Argent won’t catch up and hurt Jackson before they can try to turn him to a werewolf.

However they’re going to do that.

 

A dead boy turns up in the river the next day. He went to the same school as the pack, they all know his face but none of them had talked much to him. Stiles though says he was weird and probably evil. The cause of death was drowning, the coroner tells Derek as he and the Sheriff are examining the body.

“Though he has hematomas here, on the back of his neck,” she explains and shows them the blue marks. “Most likely from just minutes before his death.”

“So you’re saying someone held him under the water?” the Sheriff asks.

She turns her eyes at him, no trace of emotion.

“I’m saying someone held down his head just minutes before he died. Isn’t it your job to find out if it was a murder or not?”

“You’re a slave driver, Naomi Rown, a slave driver,” the Sheriff says and the coroner’s lips turn up just slightly.

“Don’t let her give you a hard time,” the Sheriff says when they leave. “She seems tough – and she is, make no mistake about that – but she’s also a sweetheart when you get to know her. You saw the truffles I left at her desk?”

Derek nods, because he did notice the Sheriff leave a tiny box on the desk.

“That’s the way to make her like you.”

Derek nods again and the Sheriff stops and places a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not telling all my deputies this, okay? So don’t let me regret it.”

Derek nods, feeling that maybe the Sheriff is talking about something else. Derek thinks of Stiles and wonders if the Sheriff knows. But then again, there’s nothing going on between Derek and Stiles that the Sheriff can even know about.

Derek’s on his way home from work when he glances out the window of his car and spots the kanima on an empty street. He’s out of his car and running towards it as quickly as he can. He has no idea what he’s going to do when he gets there but he knows he can’t just leave it. The kanima turns at him and hisses and swings one of its clawed hands at Derek, who manages to dodge. The kanima’s got a large tail and Derek remembers Stiles telling him how the tail probably was used to poison and paralyze people. Derek rolls away from the tail that tries to slap him and then the kanima is up against the wall of one of the buildings, peering down at Derek with yellow, reptilian eyes. The next moment it pounces, but Derek manages to roll away from it again.

Three shots are heard and the kanima hisses and moves backwards from Derek. Derek turns his head towards the shooter, noticing that Chris Argent seems to be alone this time. From the other side of the kanima Gerard Argent comes up and Derek doesn’t know if he should try to protect the kanima or not. He knows it’s still Jackson. Jackson might be a douche but he’s still human and shouldn’t just be put down. The kanima turns and Gerard just stands there. Derek thinks first that the kanima’s going to attack him – and Derek wouldn’t stop the kanima if it did, there’s not much human in Gerard – but then it just leaps against the wall, over Gerard and disappears. Derek hesitates but then he sees Gerard reaching for something inside his jacket, most likely a gun.

Derek does what any sane werewolf would do when facing an armed Gerard Argent; he flees. He tackles Chris, just enough to give himself a head start should Chris follow him and runs away.

It’s not until he’s back at his apartment and thinking over the advent that he realizes what it means that the kanima didn’t attack Gerard; he’s the master of the kanima.

Things just went from bad to worse.

 

The pack meets the next afternoon at Derek’s place. Derek tells them about his run-in with the kanima and Gerard.

“I think Chris might follow the code,” Derek tells his pack, “but we can’t trust him. What you have to know is that Gerard is dangerous, really dangerous. He’s cunning and I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt anyone of you. If Gerard corners anyone of you, get out of there, okay?”

The pack nods, Erica opens her mouth to protest but shuts it again when Derek stares at her.

They don’t have a plan and Derek has no idea what they should do about it. Luckily, Stiles seems to have some kind of plan. Or Scott does.

“Scott is fighting the kanima at midnight tonight and he wants you to be there,” is the first thing he says when he stumbles in through the door, panting and leaning against the door frame. “I think it has something to do with Allison. Like, if he kills the kanima – or at least wins the fight in some way, I don’t know – he gets to date Allison.”

“Damn, that’s misogynic,” Erica snarls but looks slightly amused. “Allison doesn’t know about it, does she?”

“Are you kidding? She’d have their heads!”

“Focus,” Derek tells them. “Scott is fighting the kanima? What is wrong with him?”

“He’s in love,” Stiles defends his friend, of course he does.

“He’s stupid. Love has its limits.”

“Who ruined love for you, Derek Hale?” Stiles asks.

“It’s not- I’m not- I just don’t trust the Argents.”

“And who ruined the Argents for you?” Isaac asks and Derek growls at him, but it’s Stiles who really reacts.

“The Argents ruined themselves,” Stiles snaps. “I wouldn’t blame Derek if he never talked to an Argent ever again.”

The pack stares at Stiles and then at Derek.

“What does he know that we don’t?” Erica asks slowly, carefully.

Stiles’ mouth falls open in surprise and then snaps shut.

“Oh, my god, was it a secret?” he hisses.

“No, not anymore.”

Derek  squeezes Stiles’ shoulder to show that he’s not mad at him as he turns to address his pack.

“The Argents burnt my house down,” he tells them. “Kate did, at least. I don’t know who else was in on it. Chris didn’t live here at the time but…”

Someone whines and then Derek’s engulfed in his pack, they are hugging him and each other.

“What the hell,” Stiles mutters before Derek feels his warmth pressed against his back.

“Okay, enough,” Derek says with a laugh after a minute or so. “We need to get something to eat if we’re going to stop this thing that Scott is planning.”

“Good luck with that,” Stiles snorts. “He’s more stubborn than…. Well, me, probably.”

“Well, we can try to save his life then.”

They order some food that they eat in almost silence. Every now and then Stiles tries to come up with some kind of plan, but Derek cuts him off every time.

“I’m telling you, you’re not coming with us and I don’t think we can plan this ahead.”

“But-”

“No,” Derek says and turns towards Boyd and asks about his trivia team.

They leave the apartment and make their way to Derek’s car. Stiles glares at Derek.

“Why are you so adamant that I stay out of this?” he asks with his arms crossed over his chest.

Derek motions for his betas to get in his car and leads Stiles away to his car, hoping that the distance and the closed car doors will be enough for his betas not to overhear anything. He has no doubts they will strain themselves trying though.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Stiles.”

“Because my dad’s your boss, got it.”

“It’s not about your dad, Stiles. I don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

“But-”

“Please, stay out of it,” Derek begs and realizes that he’s placed his hand on Stiles’ forearm that’s still crossed over his chest.

“I-”

“Please?”

“Okay. I hate you,” Stiles grumbles but Derek’s close enough to hear his heartbeat and know that he’s lying.

“As long as you’re unharmed, I can take it,” Derek tells him with a smile and his breath catches when Stiles’ own face lights up.

“Go get ‘em,” Stiles says and Derek turns away from him.

Stiles waves at them when they drive out of the parking lot and Derek watches him get into his own car in the rearview mirror.

“You’ve got it bad,” Erica states from the passenger seat – Derek has no idea what tricks she used to get both Isaac and Boyd to give up the spot to her.

“Shut up,” Derek tries to growl but it’s hard with a smile.

They all sober up when they arrive at the empty warehouse where Scott and the kanima are meeting.

“What are you guys doing here?” Scott hisses at them when they find him by one of the walls.

“Making sure you don’t get killed,” Isaac says with a smirk, “or worse.”

“Well, well,” Gerard states from the other side, appearing from the shadows like the villain he is. “So nice of you all to join us. Then I don’t have to track you down but I can kill you all now.”

Derek growls and shifts, his betas and Scott following suit.

“Jackson, kill them all,” he says and the next moment the kanima drops down from the roof, like the creeper it – Jackson – is.

The kanima is quick and bigger than they are with its tail swiping at them, quickly paralyzing both Isaac and Boyd. Erica holds out longer, dodging the tail on multiple occasions before it hits her in the arm and she falls to the floor. As an alpha, and used to sparring with his sisters, Derek thinks he’s got the upper hand, but it’s tough. It’s hard to keep track of the damn tail at all times. When Derek sees the opportunity he strikes, his claws ripping through the kanima’s throat. The kanima makes a gurgling noise as it falls backwards.

Derek stumbles to his knees, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired. He knows it will get better if he just gets some rest.

“Remember our deal,” Gerard says to someone behind Derek and then there’s a searing pain in Derek’s neck as claws embed themselves there. Gerard walks up to him, unrolling one of his shirt sleeves before extending his arm, right in front of Derek’s face. Derek tries to struggle, back away, but the claws are imbedded in his neck, keeping him in place, immobile.

“Don’t,” he whispers, pleads.

He’s already shifted, his fangs already out and when his mouth is pressed down on Gerard’s arm there’s nothing he can do about it. The person at his back – Scott – lets go and Derek falls backwards onto the hard stone floor, staring at Gerard.

Gerard makes a choking noise and black goo starts oozing out of his mouth, nose and eyes.

“What?” he chokes.

He fumbles with something in his pocket and pours out a few pills from a small jar into his hand. He crushes the pills in his fist.

“Mountain ash!” he cries out.

He stumbles backwards and out of the door. There’s suddenly someone at Derek’s side and he turns to see Boyd there, the weight of his hand comforting on his shoulder.

“I could smell his sickness and exchanged the pills,” Scott says with a shrug and turns towards Derek.

He extends his hand and Boyd snarls at him.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” he growls and Scott startles backwards.

Before they have much time to say anything there’s a hissing noise from where the kanima fell and then the kanima rises to its feet.

“Oh, for the love of-” Boyd swears and lets go of Derek’s shoulder.

Derek hears the sound of a car – of Stiles’ jeep – just before it comes crashing in through the windows and smashes right into the kanima. The kanima rights itself and climbs up on the roof of the jeep as Stiles and Lydia hurry out of the car.

Stiles takes Lydia’s hand and pulls her away from the car, towards the others. The kanima hisses and jumps down from the roof of the car.

“Lydia, talk to him,” Stiles says. “Tell him that you still want him – scales and all.”

Lydia looks scandalized but as the kanima approaches she starts rambling about a key. She holds out the key and the kanima stops to stare at it.

Derek has no idea what will happen, all he knows is that he won’t be able to fight nor run from the kanima. The kanima hisses again before it crouches in front of Lydia.

“What is it doing?” Lydia hisses and pulls Stiles in front of her a bit like a human shield.

Derek growls at her, but she’s too busy staring at the kanima.

“Look, the tail is shrinking,” Stiles whispers.

Derek can’t see the tail but soon the scales on the kanima’s arms turn human colored and then the claws disappear, getting replaced by human fingers and nails. Jackson grunts and Lydia rushes to his side.

“Do you still…?” he whispers and she nods and then they kiss.

Stiles backs away and turns to Derek.

“Are you okay?” he asks and Boyd helps him to stand.

“I’m fine,” Derek says, lies.

Boyd glares at Scott and Stiles looks confusedly between them. Isaac and Erica come up to them and Erica sneaks in under Derek’s arm, half in order to support him and half to comfort him.

“Let’s go home,” Derek says and Erica fishes out the car keys from his pocket.

“Okay, I’ll just-”

Stiles scrubs at his head and motions at Lydia and Jackson, that are still in a loving embrace – Jackson completely naked and completely unashamed by it – and Scott, whose jaw is clenched.

Derek nods but doesn’t say anything.

Erica rants the whole way back to Derek’s place at how they should make Scott pay for using Derek like that.

“It’s okay,” Derek tells her, patting her arm.

“No, Derek, it’s not,” she cries at him, tears in her eyes. “It’s not and I sure as hell am going to make him realize that.”

The rest of his pack nods and Derek leans his head back, trying to keep awake until they’re home.

Derek showers first and is already asleep when his betas crawl into his bed.

 

When Derek wakes up the next morning his bed is empty but the smell from his betas are there and he woke up sometime during the night by Isaac almost kicking him in the groin, so he knows they have been there. They’re probably at school, he realizes as he makes his way through the apartment and to the kitchen. As he works different hours and days he easily forgets what day it is when he’s off work. He finds his phone on the kitchen counter and puts on some coffee while opening it. Two missed called and one text, all from Jordan.

We’ve found Gerard Argent. He’s dead, the text reads and Derek can’t help but draw a sigh of relief. One of them is gone at least. He wonders what Kate is doing, he hasn’t seen her around since that time she and Allison cornered him and his betas in the woods. He wonders if she’s still in town. If she is, he knows she will be out to get him. He sends a text to his betas warning them of Kate and then sends one to Stiles as well, telling him to be careful. He then sends another to Stiles, asking him to tell Scott to be careful as well.

Derek doesn’t know why he bothers. Scott used him. Used his body. He’s no better than Kate. But still… Derek once thought they could be in the same pack, that they were brothers by their lycanthropy, and part of him still thinks that, still thinks that werewolves need to stick together, because that’s what his mother always said.

He pours up the coffee in a mug before pressing Jordan’s name on his phone. Jordan picks up on the third ring.

“Hey! Enjoying your day of freedom?” Jordan answers merrily. “I’m at work, I’m just going to go so I won’t bother my dutiful colleagues here.”

Derek knows he says this as an explanation as to why he’s not telling Derek all about Gerard at once. Derek hears a door closing and then the sounds of people chattering and typing on computers are gone.

“So, Gerard’s dead,” Jordan says. “Did you know?”

“No, not- There was a run-in with the kanima- Jackson’s no longer a kanima but transformed... I guess he’s a werewolf now.”

Derek hasn’t really had time to ponder the consequences of Jackson not being a kanima anymore.

“And Gerard? What was he doing there?”

“He and Scott-”

Derek chokes on nothing, the betrayal is still fresh, still hurts.

“I bit Gerard,” he says at last.

It’s easier than saying that Scott forced him to do it. Bodily forced.

“You did what?” Jordan gasps, scandalized.

“I- I had no other choice.”

It’s true, he didn’t.

“Scott had changed his meds for mountain ash so- I don’t know what happened, the bite didn’t take or something. What was the cause of death?”

“Car crash,” Jordan says and he sounds as surprised by this as Derek feels.

“Someone-?”

“If you’re asking if someone staged the car crash, then I would say yes, I think so.”

“But who would-?”

“Beats me, dude,” Jordan sighs. “But I think we should be grateful, this way no one thinks much of it. He ran straight into a tree, people will think he either got a stroke or just lost control over his car.”

Derek nods. Jordan is right.

“That’s… good, I guess.”

“It is,” Jordan agrees. “I have to go, see you tomorrow, you’re on the afternoon shift too, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Derek hangs up and hesitates before he calls Laura. He knows she’s most likely at work, but people at her office seem to talk more in phone with their friends and family than they do any actual work so Derek’s quite sure Laura will be able to talk. The only times she can’t is when she’s in a meeting of some kind.

“Hey, baby bro.”

Derek can hear the smile in Laura’s voice and he feels himself relaxing somewhat. He takes a sip from his coffee as he walks over to the couch to sit down, preparing himself for a long conversation with his sister where he will tell her everything that's been going on lately.

 

The pack is in the middle of a rough game of Trivial Pursuit – Isaac always cheats – when someone rings the doorbell. They all fall silent and then look around at each other. The doorbell rings again.

“No one ever uses the doorbell,” Isaac says.

Derek rolls his eyes and gets up from his comfortable armchair to answer the door. He’s surprised to see Jackson and Lydia outside. Lydia looks as composed as ever, an air of confidence around her. Jackson though looks hesitant. Derek stares at them both. Lydia sighs, rolls her eyes and shoves Jackson none too gently with her shoulder.

“So, apparently I’m a werewolf now,” Jackson says and Derek arches an eyebrow at him.

He can feel the smell of werewolf on Jackson, confirming that.

“I don’t know how to control the shifts,” he tells Derek in a low voice, “when I was-” he swallows hard, “when I was a kanima I couldn’t control the shifts at all and I don’t remember anything from the time I spent shifted.”

Derek nods and moves out of the way to let the couple in. Lydia gives a nod at the betas while Jackson stares at the ground.

“So he’s going to join our pack now or what?” Isaac asks, ever so eloquent.

“If he wants to,” Derek answers and Jackson’s head snaps up in surprise to stare at Derek.

“You’d want- even though I- I killed all those people?”

“You didn’t kill them, Jackson,” Derek tells him firmly and he can see a small nod of approval at his words from Lydia. “You said it yourself, you don’t remember shifting. You had no control over your body or your actions.”

Jackson looks like he’s about to protest but Lydia puts a hand on his arm and his shoulders sag.

“So you can help him?” she asks and Derek nods.

“How did you get turned, though?” Derek asks, turning to Jackson.

“When we fought the alpha I got a wound from it, from the claws,” Jackson explains, showing at his side where the alpha presumably clawed him. “I didn’t know that it could… It disappeared, but nothing else happened. I’ve seen McCall and I know his senses are a lot better, but I got nothing so I figured it was nothing.

“Then I started to… I don’t know, there was some black… goo that came out of my nose. I thought I was dying. I don’t know where to go, whom to ask for help.”

Jackson looks down at his hands, unsure and so unlike the Jackson Derek’s met earlier.

“You could’ve come here,” Derek tells him, squeezing his shoulder briefly.

Jackson gives him a small, tentative, real smile and Derek’s lips quirk up back.

“It got better then,” Jackson continues. “I guess that’s when I turned into the kanima? Right?”

“I think so,” Derek nods. “I had never even heard of kanimas before you.”

Isaac snorts from the couch.

“Always so special, that Jackson,” he taunts but with no real malice in his voice.

“Yeah, much more special than you, Lahey,” Jackson quips back.

Derek sighs and wonders why all members in his pack like to banter with each other. He turns to Jackson, who’s smirking at Isaac.

“The first rule of being part of this pack…” he says, pauses, watching in amusement as Jackson tenses. Derek’s lips twitch. “…is that you’re not allowed to cheat on Trivial Pursuit.”

The pack cracks up and so does Jackson. Derek herds Jackson towards the couch and Lydia hesitates before Derek motions for her to come too.

“You’re pack by association,” Erica tells her. “Your hair looks really nice today.”

At first Lydia looks really surprised and then she fiddles with her hair as she smiles and thanks Erica, telling Erica that her hair looks great too. Derek wonders what the hell he’s done, the two of them will most likely be unstoppable together.

Turns out that Lydia doesn’t need to cheat, she wins anyway. Jackon’s eyes flash blue  when he ends up last and then he looks scared, as if he’s expecting Derek to kick him out just because he got angry and couldn’t control himself.

“Don’t worry,” Boyd tells Jackson, surprising Derek by opening his mouth. “We’ll help you find an anchor so you can learn how to control it.”

“Is it hard?”

Boyd looks thoughtful and shrugs.

“At first I had a hard time but then it just fits, you know? You just learn control and then it’s hard to understand how it was to not have that control.”

Jackson looks so grateful and when Derek looks around at the pack he can see them all smiling. He may have had his doubts before but now he thinks that maybe Jackson will fit right in.

“I want the blue one,” Lydia screeches and almost knocks Isaac off the couch as they fight over who’s going to be blue the next round.

“It’s a boy color,” Isaac says.

“And we’re trying not to be like that so give it to me,” Lydia glares at him.

Derek leans back in his armchair and can’t help but smiling at his pack. The only person missing right now is Stiles and the pack would be complete.

 

The next few days pass by in a slow, normal manner and Derek feels himself relaxing more. Stiles comes by three days after the kanima incident.

“So what’s up with you and Scott?” he asks as he flops down on the couch.

Derek looks up from the book he’s reading – when he’s not out chasing kanimas and feral alphas he’s gotten time to read. Stiles looks innocent, unknowing. His brown eyes honestly wondering. Derek swallows. What does he say to that?

“Have you asked Scott?”

“He said he did what he had to do to get rid of Gerard.”

“His plan could have failed and then- then Gerard would have become a werewolf, which was what Gerard wanted.”

“What? But Scott can’t change him? Only an alpha’s bite turns you into a werewolf, right?”

Derek can see the wheels turning in Stiles’ head, he wonders if Stiles will realize the truth or if Derek has to tell him. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Did you bite him? Why would you do that? Why-?”

Stiles is frowning, his heart rate spiking up slightly as he sits up straight in the couch and leaning his elbows against his knees.

“Scott- he-”

“Derek, what did he do?”

Stiles’ voice is low, his brows furrowing even more. Derek can tell he’s upset already.

“He forced me to bite Gerard.”

“He what?”

Stiles is standing up and his fists are clenched.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says and takes a step towards the door.

Derek stands up too, putting a hand on Stiles’ arm.

“It’s okay, Stiles, what’s done is done.”

“No, Derek, it’s not okay, he- fuck, I can’t believe he would- I’m so sorry, Derek.”

There’s honesty and hurt in Stiles’ eyes, as if Scott’s betrayal towards Derek is as much of a betrayal towards Stiles.

“You said you didn’t know if you wanted to be in this pack,” Derek says. “But you already are.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open in surprise and Derek smiles slightly. He wants to pull Stiles towards him, cover him with his body and mouth.

“I am?”

“You are,” Derek nods.

“Does that mean I have to play nice with Jackson?”

Derek can’t help but laugh at that.

“No one has to play nice with Jackson.”

Stiles grins at him and the next moment he has his arms around Derek and hugging him. Derek tenses but then he accepts the hug and circles his arms around Stiles’ waist.

“I heard cuddling was kind of a pack thing,” Stiles mumbles into his neck and Derek makes a confirming sound, something between a grunt and a groan. “And if I’m pack, I get all the cuddles I want, whenever I want.”

Derek can’t say no to that. He doesn’t want to say no to that.

Stiles takes his hand and leads him to the couch and pushes him down. Then he curls up against Derek’s side so Derek has no choice but to lean backwards and place his arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

Derek’s voice sounds scratchy to his own ears.

“So Lydia and Jackson have some kind of fairytale romance going on,” Stiles says and Derek snorts. “What? It’s so like a fairytale, a Disney fairytale. Like Beauty and the Beast. He being an ugly motherfucker with fangs and she is the smart, beautiful girl.”

“Who are you then?”

“Me? I don’t know, Lumière? Cogsworth is way too serious.”

Derek snorts.

“You remind me a bit about Chip though.”

Stiles laughs at that and puts his legs over Derek’s.

“I don’t know who you would be though,” he says quietly and fingers on the buttons on Derek’s Henley on his chest.

If Stiles had been a werewolf he would have heard the rapid beating of Derek’s heart. Derek’s lucky Stiles is only human.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks quietly and hugs Stiles a little bit tighter unconsciously. “I mean, with them having ‘a fairytale romance’?”

Stiles looks up at him and Derek’s eyes flick to his lips before he forces himself to look into Stiles’ eyes instead. It’s not much better, they’re impossibly large and his lashes are so dark and thick around them.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It thought you were in love with Lydia.”

It pains Derek to say the words but if Stiles is part of this pack then Derek wants to be able to talk to him about these kinds of things. Maybe in five, ten years he’ll be able to talk about the kiss they shared.

Probably not.

Stiles looks away from him, fingering more on the buttons on Derek’s Henley, almost unbuttoning them.

“I used to be, but then- I kind of noticed someone else – a guy…”

Stiles looks up at Derek and Derek can see that he’s expecting there to be a problem. Derek has kind of a hard time breathing, he thinks that maybe he’s been interpreting things wrong, maybe Stiles means him.

“It was easier to just continue to pretend to like Lydia – I mean, I like her still, we’ve been talking in school lately and she’s awesome but… It’s not like that. It’s not like… like I want to spend the rest of my life with her. It’s not romantic, you know?”

Derek nods.

“It was easier to keep pretending that I was watching Lydia, when I actually was watching Danny.”

Derek wants to hit himself over his head repeatedly for thinking Stiles was talking about him.

“Danny’s always at the same table at lunch as Lydia, he’s friends with Jackson, and he’s gay. I don’t know… I thought that maybe just because he was gay he’d notice me, there aren’t that many gay students, or bisexual. I mean, I’m not gay.”

Derek listens to Stiles and nods at the right places but he doesn’t want to hear Stiles talk about other people he likes. He can’t handle that.

“Is there- is there a problem that I’m bi?” Stiles asks and Derek shakes his head quickly.

“Of course not, I am too,” Derek answers and Stiles gapes at him.

“You are?”

Derek rolls his eyes and then looks down at Stiles’ hand on his chest. Their position is so intimate, Stiles is almost in his lap, their faces so close, he could easily just lean forward and claim Stiles’ lips or kiss down his neck.

“I kissed you, remember?” Derek says and the metaphorical cat is out of the box.

Stiles gapes at him, looking confused.

“Yeah, but-”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times.

“You only did that because you wanted me to give you Scott’s number, so the two of you could be wolf bros. Right?”

Derek frowns at Stiles.

“No.”

“Then why would you-?”

Derek looks away, he can feel his face and ears heating up.

“When I moved here I met this guy, this infuriating kid, that I couldn’t just get out of my head. I didn’t know that he was the son of my boss back then…”

Derek doesn’t dare to look at Stiles, not when he’s admitted how infatuated he’s been with the kid all this time.

“And now?”

“I can’t imagine my life without him, even if it’s just as friends. Just as pack.”

“Derek, look at me,” Stiles whispers but Derek refuses.

He almost startles at the soft touch of Stiles’ fingers against his cheek. When the fingers press Derek just follows with his head and his eyes meet Stiles.

“I haven’t looked at either Danny or Lydia since I first met this really hot, kind deputy that had just moved-”

Derek interrupts Stiles with a kiss and Stiles makes a surprised noise before he relaxes into the kiss. He cups Derek’s cheeks and kisses him like he’s starving, like he’s drowning and Derek’s fresh air. Derek feels kind of the same. They’re both panting when they break apart and lean their foreheads together.

“We’re really stupid, aren’t we?” Stiles grins and Derek snorts in agreement. “We have so much making out to make up to.”

Sadly, their make out session is soon interrupted by Isaac who mock gags when he enters Derek’s apartment without knocking and sees them entwined on the couch.

“Warn a guy, will you?”

He shrugs off his coat – yeah, Isaac wears a coat – and unwinds his scarf to hang them on the hanger inside the door. Isaac is the only one using the hangers, the others just throw their jackets wherever, if they’re lucky the clothes end up on a kitchen chair. Derek nudges at Stiles who climbs off his lap and then snuggles up under his arm.

“Seriously though, guys, I’m happy for you,” Isaac says as he sits down in one of the armchairs. “Keep the PDA to a minimum and I won’t complain, okay?”

“PDA means public displays of affection,” Stiles murmurs in Derek’s ear.

“I know that!”

“He probably thought you didn’t because you’re, like, old,” Isaac informs Derek and Derek considers disowning him, if that’s a thing he can even do.

“He’s not that old,” Stiles says, “at least he doesn’t have any grey hairs yet.”

Stiles pats at his stubble covered chin and Derek turns to him to say something but the words are lost in his throat as he sees Stiles smiling so honestly at him. He leans forward and their lips are just about to touch when Isaac screams and starts to pretend to gag.

“Oh, grow up,” Derek mutters but smiles as he leans his forehead against Stiles’, in his periphery he can see Isaac smiling at them as well.

 

As always, the peace and calm don’t last. Derek’s on his way into his car to go grocery shopping when everything turns black.

The next thing he knows is waking up with his arms tied up against a wall. He groans and blinks away the fog. He’s in some kind of basement, he notices. There are cables attached to his chest and he can feel the hum of electricity through his whole body. Hunters. He tries to rip the handcuffs that hold up his arms, but to no avail. His calves are attached in the same way and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get free. He doesn’t have much strength because of the electricity.

The door slides opened and Kate Argent steps forward.

“Glad to see that you finally joined us,” she says and steps up to the table with the controller where they adjust how much electricity should charge into Derek’s body.

Derek growls when the pain intensifies. She lowers the electricity quite soon and smiles sweetly at him.

“I never thought you’d dare to come back here,” she says. “Did you ever tell anyone about us?”

Derek glares at her, but his glare is ineffective.

“You carried this all by yourself, didn’t you? Oh, baby, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

She turns and walks back to the door. She opens it and tells someone to get something, Derek has a hard time hearing what she’s saying because of the electricity that is pulsing through his body, lowering his senses.

“I’m going to make you suffer for killing my dad,” Kate tells him conversationally. “You’re going to watch your pack die, again. By my hands. Again. Oops.”

The door behind her slides opened and a rough-looking man pushes another person inside.

“Stiles…”

“You recognize this pretty face, huh, Derek?”

Kate tries to caress Stiles’ cheek but he jerks away, despite the grip the guy has on his arms behind his back. He’s got a bruise at his cheek bone and a split lip. Derek wants to tear the bastards apart for touching Stiles.

The man pushes Stiles to his knees by the wall to Derek’s right and ties him up in the chain that is attached to the wall.

“Try getting out of this, you little brat,” he spits at Stiles and chucks him hard in the back of the head with his hand.

Derek growls and the man snarls back at him.

“Possessive mutt, isn’t he?” the man grins at Kate.

“You have no idea,” she says with a long look at Derek.

Derek ignores her and turns to Stiles, whose eyes are wide and scared.

“It’s okay,” Derek tells him.

“How sweet,” Kate mocks. “We haven’t even started my game yet.”

She picks up a revolver from the table and empties all the bullets into the palm of her hand. She puts the bullets on the table, all but one. She shows them the bullet before she puts it in and spins the chamber.

“It’s just a regular bullet,” she explains. “So it won’t hurt you. Much.”

She points the revolver at Derek before she unclasps the safe.

“It will hurt him though.”

She points the revolver at Stiles, clearly aiming at his head.

“Please, don’t,” Derek says, all fake bravado he’s tried to show earlier is gone when facing the possibility of Stiles getting shot.

“You sick bitch,” Stiles spits out at the same time. “It’s okay, Derek.”

That’s a lie, Derek can’t hear Stiles’ heartbeat well enough to hear it speeding up slightly in that tell-tale way a heart does when a person lies. He can hear Stiles’ heartbeat though, barely a murmur, but Derek can hear it, takes comfort in hearing it even if it’s beating faster than Stiles’ regular rhythm.

“Boring,” Kate singsongs and pulls the trigger.

“No!” Derek screams but there’s no crack of the bullet leaving the chamber.

Stiles is gasping, sobbing, tears running down his cheeks, but he’s still alive, still breathing.

“I’m okay, Derek, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispers.

Kate turns the revolver at Derek, rolling her eyes and firing. There’s a loud crack of the bullet being fired and Derek groans in pain as it hits the side of his belly.

“Derek!”

Stiles is screaming, altering between crying Derek’s name and calling Kate names.

“It’s okay,” Derek tells him, focuses on Stiles’ heartbeat, his voice, as he tries to push the pain away. “It’s okay, I’ll heal. Don’t worry.”

“Well, that was disappointing,” Kate says but Derek barely hears her, focusing solely on Stiles.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” he tells his boyfriend over and over again.

Stiles is sobbing, but refuses to break their eye contact. There’s something wet on Derek’s face and he has no doubt that he’s crying too.

“Let’s play another round,” Kate says and puts a bullet in the chamber again.

“Kate, please, don’t do this,” Derek says. “Don’t hurt him. Do what you want with me, but leave him alone. He’s the Sheriff’s son, the Sheriff-”

“The Sheriff doesn’t scare me,” Kate spits at him. “When he finds his son cut in half, I’ll be in Mexico.”

Derek pulls at the handcuffs, despite knowing that they won’t break. His gunshot wound hurts a bit as he strains and he can feel the blood seeping down his skin, but he doesn’t care. Kate points the revolver at him first this time and fires. There’s no bullet this time. She huffs in annoyance and points it at Stiles before pulling the trigger.

“No! Stiles!”

Again, there’s no bullet.

“It’s okay, Derek, I’m okay, baby.”

“Baby?” Kate repeats with a surprised face. “Oh, this just went from interesting to fun.”

Derek glares at her and growls, trying to get free.

“So you’ve found a new toy, huh? A pretty, little toy to play with? Does Derek like to play with his brand new toy?”

“Shut up!” Stiles cries at her.

Kate turns away from Derek and to him instead. She lowers herself so she’s eye to eye with Stiles. He tries to get free so he can knock her but she’s too far away. He settles for glaring at her viciously.

“So he likes playing with you, does he? Just like I taught him. To find a younger one, someone who’s not ruined by someone else.”

Derek grows cold at her words. Is that what he’s been doing? Is Stiles-?

“Don’t listen to her, Derek,” Stiles calls, pulling him from his own thoughts. “She’s only trying to get to you. Don’t let her, okay? Don’t let her get to you.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Kate mocks. “Tell me, do you like it when he holds you down and fucks you? He fucks really good, doesn’t he? I know, babe, I know how good he fucks, trust me. I taught him.”

Stiles’ mouth falls opened and Derek looks away, doesn’t want to see the disgust on Stiles’ face.

“You- you bitch!” Stiles wails the next moment. “You fucking cunt!”

Derek’s never heard Stiles sound so furious before, never heard him use such words. Kate laughs.

“Shush now, sweetheart,” she chuckles, completely unperturbed by Stiles’ screams.

She takes his chin in her hand and caresses his cheek with her right hand, the hand holding the gun.

“Such mouth he has, huh, Derek? Filthy mouth. Does he moan when you fuck him? Or do you like silencing him by shoving your cock into his pretty mouth?”

Derek growls and yanks at the chains holding him. Stiles spits Kate in her face, but Derek takes little pleasure in the fact that she jerks back as the bloodied spit hits her cheek. She raises her hand and hits Stiles’ cheek hard with the end of the revolver. Stiles falls to the side and Kate shoves him upright before she straightens and wipes away the blood from her cheek.

“And now I’m done playing with you two,” she says as she aims the gun at Derek again.

There’s no bullet this time either when she fires. She turns to face Stiles, aiming at him.

“I sure hope there’s a bullet this time,” she says. “I want to see your brain on the wall behind you.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispers, just loud enough for Stiles to hear him.

Stiles turns to look at him, eyes bright with the tears that run down his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Derek. I promise. You’ll take care of the pack and my dad, okay? My dad will need you. You’ll get out of here. Hell, Jackson will come in and save you and then he has to be the best man on your wedding.”

“I’m not marrying anyone but you,” Derek tells Stiles. “And you’re not dying. There’s no bullet.”

Derek swallows because he knows that there is a bullet somewhere in the revolver and he thinks that it will go off the next time, straight into Stiles’ head.

“But if there is,” Stiles insists, “you’ll take care of Dad, okay? He’ll need you.”

“I’m not-”

“Promise me, Derek,” Stiles cries and Derek sobs because there so much resignation in Stiles.

“I promise,” Derek whispers. “I love you.”

He realizes he hasn’t said the words since he whispered them to Timmy, just before his brother drew his last breath. It’s ironic that the first time he says them after that it’s because he thinks Stiles is going to die.

He does love him though. Has for a long time.

“I love you, Stiles,” he repeats and Stiles cries openly now. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I love you so much.”

Derek’s repeating the words of love and Stiles’ name over and over again as Kate pulls the trigger.

The shot being fired echoes in the basement.

Derek howls in despair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, there will be a very short epilogue as well. And now the rating for this story finally makes sense (spoiler: they do the sex). 
> 
> A huge thanks to my lovely beta Beth.

Derek’s ears are ringing and it takes him some time to catch up to what’s going on around him. Stiles is shaking by the wall, blood splattered across his face.

Shaking.

Shaking means alive.

“Stiles…”

“Laura!” Someone cries.

“Enough!” A loud voice booms and Derek’s eyes snap away from Stiles.

Chris Argent is standing in the doorway, his eyes are fixed on Stiles. No, not Stiles, the person – persons – next to Stiles.

“Miss Hale,” Chris says and Laura – Derek stares at his sister, when did she get here? – steps away from what once was Kate Argent.

Laura raises her chin defiantly at Chris. Chris doesn’t say anything. Derek expected him to lash out at Laura for killing his sister. Like Laura lashed out at Kate for trying to kill Derek’s Stiles.

His Stiles…

He tugs at the chains, still feeling the buzz of electricity. Chris steps up to the table and shuts off the power. He reaches for his sidearm as Derek yanks at the chains, tearing them from the wall, but Derek has no interest in him at all. He kneels in front of Stiles, breaking his rope as well and then cupping his jaw. The blood on Stiles’ face isn’t his own, except that on his lips and on his cheek where Kate hit him with the blunt end of the revolver. It belongs to Laura and Kate. Derek wipes it away and presses soft kisses to Stiles’ lips.

“I love you,” he whispers over and over again. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Stiles hugs him close, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder and Derek holds him just as tightly back.

“We haven’t seen each other in months and he doesn’t even see me,” he can hear Laura comment and he looks up.

Her clothes are all bloody and her face got quite many blood stains. She’s grinning at him though.

“Hey, sis,” he smiles weakly. “What are you doing here?”

“Except for saving your ass?”

She grins cheekily at him.

“I was supposed to come, remember?”

Derek remembers that he sometime, in what felt like ages ago, was going to go grocery shopping because his sisters were coming to visit him.

“We were quite worried when you didn’t come to the airport as planned and even more so when we found two guys at your apartment discussing scarves, I mean, scarves, really?”

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles snorts against his neck. Laura extends a hand to help Derek up and Derek pulls Stiles up with him.

“I’m glad to see you,” she says and pulls Derek into a hug, with Stiles in the middle. “Hey, Stiles,” she whispers in her ear. “I think we’ve moved  right to the hugging in our relationship, don’t you?”

Stiles gives a sob that Derek thinks is affirmative. Laura pulls away and smiles at them.

“Where’s Cora? Is she at home?” Derek asks and Laura looks around the room.

Chris is still standing at the door and Derek can hear footsteps behind the hunter. When Argent turns to see who’s approaching there’s something that can only be described as shock on his face and then he’s got his arms full of a dark-haired girl.

“She locked me in,” Allison sobs in her dad’s shoulder.

Cora, Erica and Boyd step past the two of them and come up to Derek, Stiles and Laura. Erica has a cut on her eyebrow that is slowly healing but Boyd looks fine. Derek hugs them both, still with one arm around Stiles’ waist. Stiles joins in on the hugging without complaint. Cora comes up for a hug then and she even hugs Stiles.

“Stiles!” someone suddenly cries and then Derek’s nostrils are filled with the scent of Argent.

He growls and is about to tear that bitch’s arms away from Stiles when Stiles holds out one arm against his chest.

“It’s okay, Derek,” he says and Derek nods, relaxing.

One of his arms still stay around Stiles’ waist even though Stiles is busy hugging Allison Argent.

“I was so worried,” she cries. “I tried to stop her but she locked me away. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles tells her and patting her back.

Allison finally composes herself and pulls back. Derek looks at Chris who’s standing by the door looking lost. Derek wonders if he’s going to try to stop them from exiting.

“Relax,” Chris says and is about to say something else when the quick footsteps of two more people approaches.

“Hands where I can see them!” someone calls and they all raise their hands as the Sheriff stands in the doorway and pointing his gun into the room.

Jordan is standing behind him, but is lowering his gun when he sees Derek.

“Dad!” Stiles calls out – he’s the only one who hasn’t raised his hands, still having one arm around Derek’s waist.

“Stiles!” The Sheriff cries out, “Step away from that- that _thing_.”

“Dad!” Stiles calls out again, indignant this time rather than relieved, and pulls Derek closer to him.

Derek realizes that he still is shifted and he relaxes, focusing on Stiles and the fact that he’s alive as he feels his face morphing back to its usual shape.

The Sheriff gapes at him.

“Derek?” he asks, staring as if he doesn’t know what to believe.

“Sir,” Derek nods at him.

The Sheriff looks between him and Stiles and the fact that they still have their arms around each other.

“Yeah, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” Stiles says. “Me and Derek are dating.”

The Sheriff snorts and rolls his eyes.

“I know that. I’d rather you tell me why he looked like something from that TV show a few years back. Buffy something.”

“You knew?”

Stiles turns to Derek.

“Did you tell him we were dating?”

“No one told me – though I would have liked if one of you did,” the Sheriff rolls his eyes. “Care to tell me about the face thing?”

“He’s a werewolf,” Stiles says and looks around, “as are most of the people here.”

The Sheriff looks around and his eyes stop at Kate’s bloodied body.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asks.

“Sir, they have nothing to do with that, I killed her,” Laura steps in and the Sheriff turns his hard stare on her.

“And you are?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Laura. Hale. I’m Derek’s sister.”

She extends a hand before she realizes it’s bloody and then she winces and hides her hands behind her back. It does little to make her look more innocent though, she still has blood stains on her whole front.

“Sir, if I may interrupt,” Chris steps forward and the Sheriff turns to him.

“Who are you?” he basically snaps.

“Chris Argent, sir,” Chris answers.

Derek can tell he’s not used to people not knowing who he is. It pleases Derek immensely that he has to experience that.

“Are you a werewolf too?”

“No, I… My family are hunters, we protect people from werewolves.”

“Do people _need_ protection?”

The sheriff turns to Derek who shakes his head. It’s Chris who answers though.

“Most of the time, no.”

“But…?” the Sheriff prods.

“Sometimes the werewolves need protection from the humans.”

Chris looks pointedly at his sister.

“This is a crime scene, I need to speak to each one of you and-”

“Sir,” Jordan interjects and steps inside. “How would you explain her death to the public? Are you going to say that a werewolf tore her throat out? People would never believe you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Sheriff,” Laura steps forward.

“Laura!”

Derek steps up in front of Laura.

“We need to protect the secret!” Laura says. “Even if-”

“What?” Stiles cries. “No! You’re not hurting my dad!”

“Laura’s right,” Chris Argent, of all people, interjects.

Stiles turns his vicious glare on him. Jordan inches in between the Sheriff and Chris.

“No one is hurting anyone,” the Sheriff sighs and scrubs his forehead. “What do you suggest we do then?”

“I can make her death look like an accident,” Chris says and that’s the last thing Derek thought he’d ever hear Chris Argent say about his own family.

“An accident, huh? Your father recently passed away, didn’t he? In an accident?”

Chris looks away from the Sheriff, giving away everything the Sheriff wants to know.

“Jesus,” the Sheriff mutters, just loud enough for Derek to hear. “Okay, can you-”

He turns to Chris and wiggles his hand – a motion Derek recognizes from Stiles – in the direction of Kate.

“I’m on it,” Chris nods, picking up his cellphone and stepping out of the room.

“The rest of you…”

“We can go to my place,” Derek suggests, “to clean up.”

The Sheriff nods, turning his face to Stiles and looking at him for the first time. He tenses and takes the steps between them in a hurry, grabbing Stiles’ face in his hands.

“Who did this?” he demands, his eyes flicking to Derek.

It hurts, the fact that the Sheriff thinks Derek would ever do something like this just because he’s a werewolf.

“What? No! Not Derek!” Stiles exclaims. “Dad, he’s not dangerous! You know that!”

“Then who did?”

Stiles looks away from the Sheriff’s piercing gaze and Derek tightens his arm around Stiles’ waist. He knows he should let go of Stiles, to make a better impression at the Sheriff, but he’s unable to do that. Not so soon after seeing Stiles hurt and almost losing him.

“Kate-” Stiles swallows hard. “Kate did it. Kate and her lackeys.”

“Lackeys?”

The Sheriff looks around as if expecting more bodies to pop up. Derek wonders, too, were the man who brought Stiles in went.

“They’re taken care of,” Cora smirks.

“Who are you?” the Sheriff asks.

“Cora, Derek’s sister.”

The Sheriff turns to Derek, then Laura, Cora, and back to Derek.

“Yeah, my sisters,” Derek nods. “Cora and Laura. I guess my mother wasn’t right in the head after giving birth to Cora.”

“Hey!”

Derek smirks at Cora and she rolls her eyes.

“Right, two girls and two boys,” the Sheriff nods, obviously remembering the Hale siblings.

“Used to be,” Derek nods and this time it’s Stiles who tightens his hand around Derek’s waist, leaning in to him.

“I’m sorry,” the Sheriff says, honestly.

Derek just nods.

“Let’s all go to Derek’s place and you have some more explaining to do.”

He levers them all with a stern glare, daring anyone of them to disobey. Chris comes back inside the room, holding his phone.

“My men are coming to take care of this,” he tells the Sheriff and then motions at the door. “Me and Allison should just-”

“Go to Derek’s place,” the Sheriff finishes, daring Chris to disobey.

Derek really likes his boss sometimes. Chris just nods. There’s some discussion going on to get them all into cars outside the house – an abandoned house at the outskirts of the town – but eventually they all are placed into cars and are on their way. Derek and Stiles ride with the Sheriff and Jordan.

“You seem awfully calm about all this,” the Sheriff tells Jordan, who’s in the passenger seat. “Did you know?”

“N-yes,” Jordan starts shaking his head but at the Sheriff’s stern glance he changes his mind and nods instead.

“Jesus,” the Sheriff sighs again, probably only loud enough for Derek to hear.

Isaac, Jackson and Lydia meet them in the hallway when they come home.

“Are you guys okay?” Isaac asks.

“What’s going on?” Jackson asks.

“You’ve been gone for hours,” Lydia states.

“We’re fine,” Derek says and shoves them into the living room.

He ushers Stiles to clean up first and lends him clothes – he’s the only one in the pack who hasn’t left any clothes at Derek’s place.

“Allison?” Derek can hear Lydia’s surprised voice from the living room, probably having realized that her best friend knows about werewolves.

“I’m fine, Derek,” Stiles tells him when he puts the clean clothes on the toilet seat. “Seriously. You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”

“I’m not- I just-”

Stiles shoves at his chest so he takes a step back, out of the bathroom.

“When we shower together I don’t want my dad to be in the next room or that I’m covered in blood, okay?”

Derek nods and sighs.  He’s still shaky from the experience, still wants to be wherever Stiles is to make sure he’s okay.

“I think I’ll manage to take a shower on my own,” Stiles tells him in a soft tone, probably catching on to what Derek is feeling. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay?”

Derek nods and Stiles presses a dry kiss to his lips.

“Now, go explain all this crap to my dad. And good luck.”

Despite Stiles’ words, Derek has to be shoved out the room. He sighs and heads for the living room. The Sheriff is sitting in one of the armchairs, Laura’s in the other. Derek’s pack is on the couch and the floor in front of it. Chris has pulled up a chair for himself and Allison at the low table in front of the couch. Derek touches his betas, one by one, their shoulders or their necks. He hesitates at Lydia, who’s next to Jackson, but when she looks up at him and smiles, he squeezes her shoulder. She reaches up a hand to squeeze his hand.

Jordan comes into the living room, carrying a tray with glasses and bottles of water.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he tells Derek who shakes his head before he helps Jordan hand out glasses to everyone.

Derek looks for where to sit and is surprised when Jackson moves down on the floor for Derek to take his spot. Derek knows he would appear weak in front of Chris if he declined it so instead he steps over Isaac’s legs and sits down between Lydia and Boyd. Erica shuffles up and leans her head against his knee. Derek can feel Chris watching him and preens a bit at the love his betas are showing him. Jordan takes a chair from the kitchen table and sits down between the couch and the Sheriff’s armchair.

“Okay,” the Sheriff sighs, “explain.”

Derek doesn’t know what the Sheriff wants them to explain and when he looks at his sister, she looks just as confused as he feels. Luckily, Jordan opens his mouth and explains everything he knows. Derek’s glad he’s there and that he’s recently been through just what the Sheriff is experiencing now. Stiles comes out some time in the explanation and when he makes a beeline for the couch, the Sheriff clears his throat pointedly and Stiles sighs, dejectedly as he goes to grab the last kitchen chair. When Jordan’s needs help with explaining it all Chris or Laura pipe up. Derek sits mostly silent, playing with Erica’s hair and watching Stiles.

When the Sheriff finally seems satisfied it’s been almost an hour.

“I say we order some food,” the Sheriff suggests and they all nod.

Chris gets up from his chair and nods at Derek.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

Derek nods.

“Aren’t you hungry?” the Sheriff asks, frowning.

“We’ll get something on our own.”

Derek knows what Chris is doing and he’s thankful for it, Chris is showing respect for Derek and Derek’s territory. Derek might have misjudged the man some.

“Stay for food,” he tells the hunter. “I insist.”

Chris looks surprised but then a small smile tugs at his lips.

“Thank you.”

“I have no idea what just happened,” the Sheriff mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, old man,” Stiles chirps and tugs the menu the Sheriff’s been holding from his hand.

An argument between Isaac and Jackson erupts when they discuss which pizza place is the best and it ends first when Derek physically has to separate them.

“Hale, for god’s sake,” the Sheriff says then, “go put on a shirt, I think my son’s about to have an aneurysm and he’s way too young for that.”

“What? I wasn’t-! I’m not-! Well, have you seen his abs?”

Stiles motions at Derek’s whole body and Derek smirks slightly.

“I’m with the Sheriff,” Laura snorts and Derek cuffs the back of her head – hard – when he bypasses her on his way to the bathroom.

When he emerges from the shower with clean clothes, the others seem to have settled in. The Sheriff, Jackson and Chris discuss lacrosse while Erica, Lydia and Allison seem to discuss colors of some clothes or something. Derek sits down next to Stiles, who’s moved to the couch.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers as he nuzzles Stiles’ cheek, breathing in the clean scent of him.

“Me too,” Stiles whispers back, catching his lips and entangling their fingers. “That you are, I mean. And me. Both of us.”

Derek nods and buries his face in Stiles’ neck.

The pizzas soon arrive and they trade slices between each other and Derek’s glad that even though there are hunters there the mood seems good and relaxed. Chris and Allison are the first to leave and then the Sheriff gets up.

“Stiles, are you coming?” he asks and Stiles entangles himself from Derek.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and presses a quick kiss before going with his father to the hallway in front of the door.

Derek doesn’t listen in on what they’re saying, giving them that privacy. Stiles comes back soon thereafter and the Sheriff asks if anyone else wants a ride. Jordan gets up along with Erica and Boyd. They leave after a pat on Derek’s shoulder. Lydia, Jackson and Isaac get up then to leave.

“I think we should find a hotel,” Laura tells her sister and smirks at Derek, who looks away from her.

He’s twenty-three, but he can’t talk to his sister about such things. He’ll probably never do that.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Cora agrees with a shit-eating grin.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” Laura asks and Derek nods.

She kisses both his and Stiles’ foreheads before they leave too.

“Alone at last,” Stiles sighs as he snuggles up against Derek. “My dad said I could spend the night if we come for breakfast tomorrow.”

Derek nods, he can live with that. Stiles turns to face him and kisses him fully on the mouth, no hesitation, no holding back. Derek returns just in kind. He pours everything he feels into the kiss, everything that have happened, everything that could have happened.

“Stiles,” he pants against Stiles’ lips.

Stiles hums and moves so he’s straddling Derek’s lap. Derek’s hands immediately find their way to Stiles’ waist, he wants them to go lower, to grab Stiles’ ass and rut against him, but Stiles is young and this is new. Stiles grinds down in Derek’s lap then, making Derek hiss and his hands grip Stiles’ hips harder.

“Derek, I want you,” Stiles whispers and Derek forces himself to pull away.

“Are you sure?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. His pupils are blown wide and there’s a fetching flush on his cheeks. His lips are red and slightly swollen. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

“Of course I’m sure, you doofus!”

Derek leans up and presses his lips to Stiles’, smiling into the kiss. His hands slip backwards, lower to grab Stiles’ ass, eliciting a moan from Stiles. Stiles breaks away, gasping as he grinds down against Derek’s fully hard dick. Derek can feel Stiles’ hard cock too. He wants to touch it, taste it. Derek kisses down Stiles’ throat, altering between licking and biting, reveling in the scent of Stiles and arousal and the sounds Stiles is making. Derek should have known Stiles would be loud. He loves it.

“Oh,” Stiles gasps, arching into Derek, when Derek finds a particularly sensitive spot at the side of his neck. “Yeah, fuck.”

Derek grins into Stiles’ skin, sucking hard on it. His hands find their way up under Stiles’ shirt and when they touch warm, soft skin Derek wants to feel that warm skin on his front too. He wants to see Stiles’ chest, follow the moles he’s sure are there too, lick and bite at his nipples – he wonders if they’re sensitive or not. He hopes they are.

“Off,” he grunts and is glad Stiles is only wearing one of Derek’s henleys – his usual plaid and t-shirt combo would be so much work getting rid of, now Derek only pulls the shirt over Stiles’ head and then he’s presented with pale skin and dark-pink nipples.

His mouth immediately finds one of the nipples and Stiles groans as he arches against Derek’s mouth, his hands tangle in Derek’s head, keeping it there – as if Derek has any thoughts of moving away. He laps at the nipple, sucking and biting and drags his lips against it when it’s hardened. Stiles is emitting the most wonderful sounds – and he’s only shirtless yet. Derek moves his mouth to the other nipple, giving it the same, thorough treatment. Stiles’ chest is pale and smooth, hairless except below his bellybutton where a dark trail leads lower, down in his tented pants.

“You’re gorgeous,” Derek whispers against Stiles’ lips before kissing him. “I love you.”

Stiles leans back slightly, not far, just a few inches from Derek’s lips, but enough so he can look Derek in the eye.

“I thought…” He begins, hesitantly. “I thought you only said that-”

“I love you,” Derek interrupts him, he can feel his own fear and uncertainty start to build, but still determined to get the words out. “I do. It wasn’t just something I said when I thought you were about to die.”

“Thank fuck,” Stiles groans and kisses him. “I thought it was just something you said.”

“It wasn’t,” Derek promises against his lips, eye contact is no longer needed.

“Good. Me neither,” Stiles mumbles. “I love you. God, I love you so much.”

It’s like a dam breaks with those words, as if they both have been hesitating in fear of the other’s rejection. They kiss and rut against each other, hands roaming over the other’s body. They get off Derek’s shirt – Derek’s not sure if it’s he or Stiles that tugs it over his head. Stiles is moaning, groaning and mumbling praises, seeming much more religious than usual as his most commonly used words are “oh, my god”. They get Derek onto his back and Stiles above him, straddling him and rutting against him. It’s frantic and uncoordinated and so, _so_ hot. Sadly, it’s not enough for Derek to come. He’s close though, especially when Stiles gets louder, even more frantic and then groans and stills above Derek. He sags against Derek, his head against Derek’s shoulder, pressing gasping kisses to Derek’s skin. Derek holds him as he shakes and comes down from his high. Derek wishes he’d managed to get Stiles’ pants off before he came, he would have loved to see it, would have loved to be _covered_ in it. Maybe next time.

“God, that was embarrassingly quick,” Stiles groans when his breathing has returned to normal. “And messy.”

“It was hot,” Derek says and presses a kiss to Stiles’ temple, the only part of his face that he can reach as Stiles has his face covered in between Derek’s head and the back of the couch.

Stiles sits up to look at Derek, his cheeks are flushed a bright red, not only because of his orgasm, Derek notes. He wants to kiss away all Stiles’ embarrassment.

“Really?”

Derek nods.

“You don’t think I’m an inexperienced teenager?”

“You _are_ a teenager,” Derek says. “And…”

“Yeah, I’m inexperienced too,” Stiles admits, looking away. “I’ve only kissed two girls before you.”

Derek sits up, Stiles scooting backwards in his lap but not moving away. Derek cups Stiles’ cheeks, forcing Stiles to look at him. His brown eyes are wide, hesitant.

“I love you,” Derek whispers, letting the words sink in, before he leans in and kisses Stiles’ lips.

Stiles’ eyes flutter shut and Derek presses soft kisses to both of them before kissing his cheeks. He bends down and presses a kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth. When Stiles moves his head, trying to make it into a real kiss Derek moves away. He kisses Stiles’ neck, first the right side of his head and then the left.

“I love that you’re inexperienced,” he whispers in Stiles’ ears, tugging at the earlobe with his teeth, making Stiles gasp. “I love that no one has seen you like this. And I love that you came, because that meant that it was good for you.”

“Yeah, it was,” Stiles groans, “So good.”

“I love that I’m your first,” Derek whispers, letting a growl of possessiveness from his more wolfish side slip through. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Stiles whispers and this time when he turns his head for a kiss, Derek lets him.

The kiss is slow first, languish and exploring, but soon Stiles grows impatient and deepens it. He starts to grind down against Derek again, just tiny, rotating motions of his hips. And Derek feels his half-hard cock starting to get interested again, especially when he can feel Stiles growing hard again as well.

“Should we move to the bedroom?” Derek asks and Stiles nods, kissing down Derek’s throat. “Then you have to get off me.”

Stiles pouts as he climbs off Derek and stands up. He takes Derek’s hand and leads him to the bedroom. Outside the door he stops and hesitates. Derek hugs him from behind.

“We don’t have to,” he says against Stiles’ hairline, pressing a kiss there.

“No, I know, it’s just- Can I go clean up first?”

Stiles turns in Derek’s arms and Derek nods. Stiles’ cheeks are flushed, not so much from arousal anymore.

“Should I… uhm… clean other places as well?”

Derek would like that, to be inside Stiles like that, but he thinks it’s too soon for the teen. And Derek can wait, he can wait forever if he has to.

“No,” he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips. “Hurry up.”

Stiles smirks and presses one kiss before making his way to the bathroom instead. Derek steps inside his bedroom, kicking some of his clothes that are lying on the floor in under the bed. He considers making the bed but that would just be silly, they will most likely rumple it up again. He considers staying in his clothes but then decides against it and slips out of his jeans and tugs off his socks. He leaves his boxers on, not wanting to scare Stiles off by lying naked when he comes back. He sits down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, readjusting his half-hard dick in his underwear. He doesn’t mean to, but the touch feels so good so he flicks his thumb over the head a few times, imagining it to be Stiles’ hand, hoping it will be Stiles’ hand soon.

“Oh, my god,” Stiles breathes suddenly from the doorway.

Despite what they are planning on doing and what they have done, Derek tugs his hand out of his boxers quickly and feels his ears burn with embarrassment.

“No, don’t stop,” Stiles says, stepping into the room and kneeling on the bed.

He’s dressed in only his boxers as well, they’re tented and Derek can see a dark spot at the head. He can feel his mouth watering. Stiles crawls up the bed, kind of feline-looking, smoother than Derek would have thought he’d ever manage. Derek feels a bit like prey. Like prey that wants to be captured.

He spreads his legs and Stiles smirks at him as he crawls between them, the hair on Derek’s leg tickle in the most sensual way he’s ever experienced when Stiles’ arms brush against them. Stiles sits back on his haunches and Derek almost holds his breath, waiting for what Stiles has planned for him.

The first touch is on his thigh, just a hand placed there, but Derek can feel his cock throbbing. The thumb caresses his thigh for a moment before Stiles grows bolder and he caresses his hand up Derek’s thigh. He doesn’t go straight for Derek’s cock though, instead he bypasses it by a few inches and caresses his hand up Derek’s torso, to his nipple that he brushes his thumb over until it hardens. His other hand follows the same path on the other side before he caresses down Derek’s stomach. He rubs a bit at the hair on Derek’s chest before he continues lower. His hand brushes in the hair below Derek’s navel and then his fingers slip just inside Derek’s boxers, caressing under the elastic band.

“Do you want me to take them off?”

Stiles’ voice is lower than usual, husky and oh, so sexy.  Derek nods, swallows and wets his lips. It’s rather uncoordinated when they tug his boxers off together, but the point is that they come off and Derek’s cock spring free. Stiles tugs on him until he’s lying flat on his back on the bed.

“Take off yours too,” Derek demands and Stiles hurriedly does as he asks.

His cock is long and lean, flushed dark red on the tip. Derek wants it in his mouth. He reaches out a hand to touch, but Stiles slaps his hand away with a cocky grin.

“Now it’s about you.”

Derek nods, licks his lips. His throat is dry.

Stiles straddles him again, his cock is just a few inches from Derek’s, it would be so easy to just move a bit and they would touch. He lies completely still.

Stiles looks down at him and then leans his hands on either side of Derek’s head. He kisses him softly, lingering afterwards.

“Tell me if I’m doing something wrong, okay?”

Derek nods and Stiles presses a kiss to his lips again. He leans back and kisses down Derek’s neck instead, biting and sucking, testing how to make Derek react. He kisses down Derek’s chest, licking at his nipples and Derek feels his eyes flutter shut. No one has ever taken such care in kissing him before, in exploring his body. Stiles’ hands caress down his sides and when Stiles’ mouth moves lower so does his hands. Once again he ignores Derek’s almost aching cock and caresses his thighs instead with his hands while he leans his face against Derek’s stomach. He caresses down to Derek’s knees and then up, almost to his balls, before he goes down again.

“I love your abs,” Stiles admits and nuzzles against them.

Derek chuckles breathlessly and caresses Stiles’ head, playing with his hair. Stiles leans against his hand and hums before he leans down and kisses Derek’s stomach, he continues lower now, down Derek’s side and his head is so close to Derek’s dick but he’s not touching it. Derek wants to growl at him. Instead he stays completely still, letting Stiles do whatever he wants. Stiles sits up slightly, caressing Derek’s thighs and then, finally, his hand closes around Derek’s shaft. The touch is too light, not enough. Stiles drags his hand up slowly, rubbing his thumb over the tip, once, twice, before he lowers his hand again.

“Wow,” Stiles breathes and Derek huffs out a laugh at the amazement in his voice. “I can’t believe I’m touching your dick.”

“You’re _barely_ touching it,” Derek retorts.

Stiles gets a competitive glint in his eyes and Derek’s stomach tightens in anticipation. Stiles’ hand tightens around his dick and Stiles jerks him harder, faster then. Derek groans and his hips jerk slightly, involuntarily.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Stiles mumbles and jerks him quicker.

“Stiles, come here, I need-” Derek groans and tugs at Stiles’ hand to move up so Derek can kiss him.

The position makes Stiles’ hand falter and Derek groans into his mouth.

“I want to blow you,” Stiles breathes against his lips. “Please, Derek, I want to taste you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek nods and Stiles moves down once again.

This time though it’s not his hand but his mouth that closes around Derek’s cock. He groans at the heat. He can feel that Stiles is inexperienced, but he’s a quick learner. At first he doesn’t know what to do with his hands but then he fists one around the base of Derek’s dick, jerking what his mouth can’t cover. He chokes a few times, going too far, but he learns quickly how far he can go, how deep he can take Derek’s cock. Derek looks down at him, his pink lips are stretched around Derek’s length. Derek _knew_ he’d look good like this.

“Fuck, look at you,” he gasps and caresses Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles lets him feel the head against his cheek, through the skin there. He groans and Stiles smirks – well, as good as he can when his mouth his full of Derek’s cock. Stiles is sucking and licking and Derek can feel his orgasm approaching quickly. He pulls Stiles’ head away and Stiles makes a disappointed sound, as if he can’t get enough of tasting Derek on his tongue.

“I’m close,” Derek moans, “I didn’t want you to- not your first time.”

Stiles nods and lowers his head again, Derek thought he didn’t listen but then he feels Stiles’ warm mouth on his balls, engulfing them. He jerks his own cock quickly. He can feel his balls tighten and then the wave of pleasure courses through his body. He spurts come over Stiles’ cheek and shoulder. Stiles grins up at him and Derek pulls him upwards by his hand, the come dripping down on Derek’s stomach and chest, but he doesn’t care, he needs to kiss Stiles. Stiles grins against his mouth and Derek smiles at him when they pull apart. He reaches out and wipes off the come on Stiles’ cheek. He’s about to wipe it away on the sheets when Stiles takes his fingers and stick them into his mouth. Derek feels his cock jerk helplessly in reply. Stiles closes his eyes and moans around Derek’s fingers.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Derek groans and Stiles grins at him as he pulls away from Derek’s fingers.

“But I’ll be a cute way to die, right?”

“The best way,” Derek agrees and pulls Stiles up for another kiss.

He wipes off the come from Stiles’ shoulder and the remaining come on his cheek with the edge of the covers. Stiles grins at him and Derek pulls him close again. He feels Stiles’ hard dick press against his thigh as they kiss.

“How do you want to come?” he asks when they break apart.

“Doesn’t matter,” Stiles says. “Your hand, your mouth, your ass.”

He winks at Derek and Derek feels his stomach swop at that.

“Some other day,” he says because god, does he want that.

Stiles looks surprised.

“What? You’d let me-? I mean, you-”

“I want you to fuck me some day, Stiles,” Derek says, making his voice lower.

Stiles whimpers at that – he actually _whimpers_ – and now it’s Derek’s turn to smirk.

“Fuck, I thought you wouldn’t want that. I mean you’re the alpha – grrr – and all that.”

“If you don’t want-” Derek begins, feeling hesitant for the first time about this.

“Oh, I want it, alright,” Stiles nods feverishly. “I want you in every possible way, fucking me, sucking me, me fucking you.”

“I want that too,” Derek admits.

Stiles gives him a blinding smile and grinds against him.

“Talking about me fucking you or you fucking me doesn’t really make this go away though,” he leers and Derek snorts.

“Lay on your back,” he orders and Stiles scrambles to comply.

Derek gives Stiles the same treatment as Stiles gave him, kissing him slowly, caressing his whole body until Stiles is a writhing, gasping mess on his bed. His cheeks and chest are flushed – or maybe it’s from Derek’s stubble. Either way, it looks great on Stiles. Derek sucks a mark into his collarbone, knowing that Stiles’ shirts will cover it from the Sheriff. Stiles arches his body against Derek’s mouth and moans loudly – Derek’s really glad they’re alone in the apartment.

When he goes lower to suck Stiles’ cock into his mouth, Stiles’ hips jerk and he moans loudly, throwing his head back, knuckles growing white from holding onto the sheets so hard. Derek doesn’t tease much, but sucks hard and dirty, letting salvia gather in his mouth to make it wetter. Stiles is moaning loudly every time Derek pulls his cock deeper into his mouth. Derek pulls away and Stiles makes a sobbing sound. Derek doesn’t let him wait too long though but mouths down against his balls, pulls them into his mouth and licks at them. He hesitates before he goes lower, when his finger touches Stiles’ hole the first time Stiles jerks and Derek looks up at him.

“You want me to stop?” he asks and Stiles shakes his head violently.

“God, no, don’t stop, don’t ever stop, like ever. If you stop I’ll die, I will actually- _oh_!”

Derek pushes his saliva wet finger against Stiles’ hole and grins against his balls when Stiles’ body goes rigid and his monologue is cut off by a moan.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles is muttering, followed by a praise and Derek’s name.

Derek pushes in his finger, watching Stiles carefully for any signs of discomfort. Stiles though is moaning and arching his back. Derek mouths down over Stiles’ balls and around his finger.

“Would you like to get on your hands and knees?” he asks Stiles who nods and hurriedly complies.

“No dog jokes,” Stiles orders, looking at Derek over his shoulder.

Derek chuckles.

“I thought that was your area of expertise,” he says and kneads Stiles’ ass cheeks.

Stiles has got a great ass. It’s pale and a group of moles on his right one. Derek kisses the constellation and Stiles tenses first but then relaxes.

“Is this okay?” Derek asks and Stiles hums in agreement. “You’re gorgeous.”

He spreads Stiles’ cheeks, brushing his thumb over his hole, watching it flutter as Stiles groans. He caresses Stiles’ side with his left hand while he licks at his right index finger, making it wet, before he pushes it against Stiles’ opening. Stiles groans and when Derek pushes his finger inside he arches his back, moaning loudly.

“Fuck, Derek, I’m close, I think.”

“It’s okay,” Derek murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

Stiles nods franticly and Derek bends down to lick a stripe from Stiles’ balls and up his crack.

“Oh,” Stiles gasps, “please, do that again.”

Derek repeats the movement a few times, relishing in the way Stiles pushes his ass backwards towards him as his head hangs heavy between his shoulders. All signs of tension is now gone. Derek flattens his tongue against Stiles’ hole and licks against it slowly before making it harder, probing against the hole. Stiles is gasping and his arms are shaking, but still holding himself up.

“Can I blow you?” he asks. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” Stiles answers. “Yeah, should I turn around?”

Derek shakes his head and arranges so Stiles is straddling his face. Stiles is gaping down at him and Derek smirks as he licks at the wet head of Stiles’ cock.

“Fuck,” Stiles moans and his hand fists in Derek’s hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Tug as hard as you want. You can fuck my mouth.”

“Are you-?”

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Stiles’ eyes flutter and he groans.

“ _You_ will be the death of _me_.”

Derek grins and takes Stiles’ cock into his mouth again. This time Stiles lets himself push into Derek’s mouth and Derek groans around him, his hands grabbing Stiles’ ass. After a few thrusts of Stiles’ hips, Derek moves his right hand towards Stiles’ hole and this time it slips inside with almost no resistance. Stiles moan loudly and his movements falter for a moment before he resumes fucking Derek’s mouth. His movements are more frantic, less coordinated now. Derek pushes his finger in and groans as he feels the taste of precome on his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck,” Stiles is chanting above him, holding onto Derek’s head and looking down at him with hooded, dark eyes.

Stiles makes to pull away before he comes but Derek keeps him there, sucking the orgasm right out of him. Stiles moans loudly as he stills and his cock pulses in Derek’s mouth and Derek swallows it all down. He eases his almost bruising grip on Stiles’ ass and Stiles falls limply to the side. Derek slides up his body and arranges them so he’s lying on the pillows with Stiles’ head on his shoulder.

“You killed me,” Stiles murmurs and Derek presses a kiss to his lips. “You killed me with your mouth. You sucked all life out of me through my dick. You’re a dick vampire.”

Derek chuckles and pulls the cover over them both.

“You’ll feel better in a while,” he promises and Stiles hums, already half-asleep. “Good to know that you get tired from sex.”

Stiles has already fallen asleep when Derek utters those words.

“Good night, Stiles,” he whispers anyway. “I love you.”

 

Derek wishes that they had more time the next morning, but they’re meeting the Sheriff for breakfast and barely have time for morning kisses before they have to go unless they want to be late. And Derek really doesn’t want to be late. Apparently he’s left a hickey on Stiles’ neck that Stiles can’t manage to cover, not even by borrowing one of the many scarves Isaac has left there. So yeah, Derek doesn’t want to give the Sheriff any more reason to shoot him.

When they arrive at the café, the Sheriff merely looks amused when he sees the dark-purple hickey on Stiles’ neck. He doesn’t seem inclined to shoot Derek. Yet.

“I was wondering when you two were going to tell me,” the Sheriff says and makes to grab a sugar cube but Stiles slaps his hand away. The Sheriff sighs heavily and drinks his coffee black instead.

“It’s quite new still,” Stiles says and the Sheriff’s eyebrows rise in obvious surprise.

“New?”

“Yeah, we’ve only been dating for two weeks,” Derek agrees with Stiles, who smiles at him and nudges him with his shoulder where they sit next to each other on the twin seat in the booth. Stiles’ eyes look amber in this light. Derek kind of wants to drown in them. The clearing of someone’s throat startles him and he can feel his cheeks burn as he turns to the Sheriff again.

“I thought you started dating the moment you moved here,” the Sheriff admits.

Stiles takes Derek’s hand under the table and entangles their fingers, squeezing Derek’s hand gently.

“We needed a bit more time than that,” Derek says.

“Though you had the hots for me the whole time, didn’t you, muffin?”

“Oh, dear lord,” the Sheriff mutters, probably at the pet name. Derek rolls his eyes.

“Good morning,” a cheerful, familiar voice greets before they have time to say anything else. “Mind if we join you?”

Laura doesn’t wait for an answer before she sits down beside the Sheriff, smiling at him, then Derek and Stiles. Cora shoves at Derek until he moves in to give her room next to him.

The Sheriff doesn’t ask more questions about Derek and Stiles after that and even if there hadn’t been any real tension before Derek’s sisters arrived, Derek feels himself relax as he talks and laughs with his sisters, Stiles and the Sheriff.

They leave after almost an hour there, Stiles going with the Sheriff home after kissing Derek to the catcalls of Laura, because she’s forever a teenager at heart.

“So, what do we have to see in Beacon Hills?” Laura asks and links her arm with Derek as she steers them down the street. Cora trails after them without a word. She’s always been the quieter, subdued of Derek’s sisters, more alike Derek. Their dad used to say it was because Laura took all the air and left nothing for her siblings.

They walk around a bit in the town, reminiscing their childhood. A lot of shops are still where they were, but there’s also a lot of new places. Coffee shops, especially. Those were never a thing when they were younger.

It’s Cora’s idea to go see the house they used to live in. Derek warns them that no one has touched it since the fire. They don’t talk much on the drive there; the easiness from earlier gone. The house looks different than it had when Derek was here last, when he became the alpha. Then it had been dark and night and he’d been more focused on getting rid of the alpha. He remembers how it looked before the fire. Huge and inviting. The porch is intact but most of the ceiling and half a wall are gone.

“It’s sad,” Laura says. “Once I thought I might want to move back here, rebuilding it. We still own the land, you know?”

Derek does know this, he hasn’t thought about it since he moved here, hasn’t thought about it in years but he knows they own the land.

“But I like New York,” Laura says and Cora nods in agreement.

“I don’t,” Derek admits. “I like Beacon Hills and…”

“You want the land?” Laura asks and Derek turns to stare at her. “I’ll give you my share if you want it.”

Cora nods next to her. Derek stares at them. Do they mean…?

“Or we could sell it,” Cora suggests with a shrug.

Derek turns to the house again. He thinks of his parents, they loved the house at the very edge of the woods. He loved it as a child as well. He thinks of his pack, of Stiles, living in a house together. On the same land where his parents lived, where he grew up…

“Yeah,” he exhales shakily. “I want to rebuild it.”

A smile breaks out on Laura’s face and she hugs him tightly.

“I’m so glad,” she whispers. Derek sneaks his arms around Cora’s waist and pulls her close as well. She laughs and shoves him away before she runs away.

“Oh, it’s on,” Laura grins with a mad glint in her eyes that flash red before she takes after her sister through the underbrush. Derek snorts but when he hears Cora call his name for help he takes after his sisters, ganging up with Cora against Laura.

 

Derek’s sad to see his sisters go but he doesn’t feel the same restlessness he’d felt when he moved back to Beacon Hills. He has his pack here and Stiles, they keep him grounded. His betas are all thrilled at the prospect of helping Derek build a house and then live there with him. Derek knows though that it’s probably too soon for him and Stiles to move in together, but to him, Stiles is it, the love of his life. He knows he’ll never find someone like Stiles again.

There’s also the fact that Stiles is going away for college in the fall. Stiles has hinted at staying in Beacon Hills but Derek says he wouldn’t let Stiles live with him, and John says the same thing. Stiles has been accepted to Berkley, there’s no way Derek is going to stand in the way of that. He just hopes Stiles won’t forget about him when he moves away.

“He won’t,” Erica says when he tells her this worry of his. She has her head in his lap on the couch and he’s scratching at her scalp with his fingers. At least she and Isaac have another year before graduating and Boyd is going to the local community college. Derek’s glad to have them close at least. Jackson is talking about going to Cambridge. Derek doesn’t want to stop him, but he would probably miss him. Even if it is _Jackson_.

“You know, he and Scott haven’t talked since Stiles found out about Gerard,” Erica says and turns to face Derek. “They’ve been inseparable all through high school and now Stiles refuses to even look at Scott.”

Derek swallows hard. It’s not that he’s not pleased that Stiles choses his side in this, but he knows Stiles misses his best friend, knows that despite Scott’s bad judgment call, he’s not a bad guy.

“You should talk to him, tell him it’s okay that he’s friends with Scott. It is, isn’t it?”

Derek nods.

“Of course it is,” he says and Erica hums.

“I still want to rip his throat out for hurting you though.”

Derek smiles at her and vows to speak to Stiles later in the evening when his boyfriend has promised to drop by. He stays at Derek’s place at least a few nights a week, as often as John allows. 

Stiles brings takeout with him when he comes and the pack happily dig in. Isaac and Erica are on their way of a physical fight over the last spring roll when someone suddenly knocks on the door. Erica and Isaac both turn to the door, leaving the spring roll unsupervised and free for Jackson to snatch. Derek hits the beta softly in the back of his head as he makes his way to the door. He’s surprised to see Scott on the other side of the door. By his side is Allison. Derek looks between the couple, wondering what they’re doing here.

“Hey, Derek,” Scott says and awkwardly shuffles his feet. Derek nods at him and Allison, who smiles tentatively back. “I-”

“What do you want?” Stiles is suddenly standing next to Derek, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes glaring.

“I-” Scott falters and looks more at Stiles than Derek. “I’m sorry for what I did. I- I thought it was the best and-”

“If Gerard had realized that you’ve swapped his pills and he’d turned to a werewolf, you’d think he’d stay a beta?” Stiles asks heatedly and Derek puts a hand on his forearm to calm him down.

“Stiles, it’s okay,” he says quietly, knowing that Scott will hear it anyway.

“No, it’s not okay!” Stiles protests. “He-”

“He didn’t mean any harm.”

Stiles looks close to tears and his jaw clenches.

“Stiles, he’s your best friend,” Derek tells him gently, cupping his cheek and leaning their foreheads together. Stiles exhales shakily and Derek presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I forgive him, can you?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles whispers and Scott makes a wounded sound.

“Stiles, please,” he pleads. “I- I made a bad thing and I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

He turns to Derek now and looks Derek straight in the eye. Derek nods slowly, meeting Scott’s eyes without blinking. Scott turns his gaze away, tilting his head slightly, showing his neck. He probably does it without thinking, without knowing that he shows himself submissive to Derek.

“Scott needs a pack,” Allison speaks for the first time. Scott gives her a half-hearted glare and she glares back. “Werewolves need pack, I’m not enough for him.”

“You’re my anchor,” Scott protests.

“But I’m not a pack, Scott. You need a pack.”

Derek still doesn’t trust Scott enough to welcome him into his pack, and he tells Scott this. Scott nods and seems to accept this.

“We’ll think about it,” Derek says and turns slightly to Stiles. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

Scott nods and Stiles turns to go back to the rest of the pack, who are probably straining themselves to hear the conversation.

“I’ll talk to him,” Derek promises Scott, who sniffles and nods.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

Allison smiles softly at Derek before she takes Scott’s hand and leads him towards the stairs and away from Derek’s apartment.

Derek walks back to his pack. Stiles hugs him tightly and sniffles into his shirt. He smiles softly into Stiles’ hair, knowing that no matter what happens, he’ll have Stiles and his pack by his side. If Scott joins the pack in the future, then Derek hopes they’ll learn to trust each other again. Until then, he has no problems with his pack as it is now.

Moving to Beacon Hills might have been the best decision Derek’s ever made.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done. Can you believe it? I sure can't. This is the longest story I've posted. Thanks to all of you who have commented and left kudos! I hope you'll enjoy this short epilogue. 
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to my beta Beth.

There are loud shrieks that wake Derek up barely two hours after he went to bed after working all night. He told his betas that they  _had_ to be quiet today and if they woke him up for something other than someone dying,  _they’d_ be the ones who would be dying. And yet he wakes up now. His first thought is that it’s actually a kind of life and death experience with the pixies that they’d dealt with only yesterday (when Derek should have been sleeping to prepare for the night shift).

Pixies suck.

It’s not that they’re evil; they’re just bastards who like to make fun of people and thrive from chaos. The sounds from downstairs sound too excited though for it to be pixies. The pixies themselves would sound excited but their voices – if it should even be called voices – sound more like annoying bird chirping than the more human sounds coming from downstairs. Derek can make out Scott’s voice and wonder what the beta is doing at the house so early. Scott’s not really pack yet but they’ve grown to trust each other over the last year. The pixies actually only helped with that.

Along with Scott came Allison and her only remaining relative, Chris. They have grown closer to the pack and are more prone to help out now. Derek doesn’t really want to admit it but both Argents have been quite the assets to have on their side over the year. Chris has an extensive knowledge about most supernatural things and Allison rarely misses her target with her bow. Derek would not want her as his enemy.

Scott’s also the one handling the contact with the pack’s emissary, the local vet – and Scott’s boss – Deaton. Derek doesn’t trust Deaton. Had Deaton only had good intentions he would have come to Derek the moment Derek came back to Beacon Hills, because Deaton used to be the pack’s emissary when Derek grew up – though Derek knew nothing about this until Deaton told him (six months after Derek came back). Because of Derek’s distrust of Deaton he’s quite glad Scott is handling the contact with the man, he’s also quite certain that Scott is the one who’d get the most information out of the man. Had Derek gone there himself, Deaton would probably only tell him half of the things he’d tell Scott.

It’s the name Erica calls out that gets Derek out of bed and down the stairs in no time.

“Stiles,” he breathes and buries his face in Stiles’ neck.

“Hey, big guy.”

Stiles hugs him just as tightly, kissing the side of Derek’s face, the only place he can reach.

“You…” Derek breathes, having a hard time finding his voice, the scent of Stiles is thick in his nose, but the absence of his own scent on the other man makes him want to rub himself all over his boyfriend. He hasn’t seen his boyfriend for almost a month, barely even talked to him as Stiles has been busy with exams and things to finish his first year at college. “You’re not supposed to come until tomorrow.”

Stiles laughs at that.

“Change of plans. Thought I’d surprise you. If you want to, I’m sure my dad will have me if you don’t want me to stay here.”

Stiles makes to pull away from Derek’s embrace, but Derek hugs him tighter.

“No,” he growls. “I want you.”

Stiles laughs again. Derek has really missed that sound. He leans away to look at Stiles, his eyes are bright with joy and his hair longer than when Derek last saw him in the end of April. He’s beautiful. Derek presses their lips together and thinks of picking Stiles up and carrying him to his bedroom and never leave. The catcalls of his betas (mostly Erica) make him remember that they’re not alone and that Stiles hasn’t been to the house since it was finished.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour,” he says and steps away from Stiles but entangles their fingers.

“You should see the sound system we have,” Scott tells Stiles excitedly. “It’s awesome!”

Derek can’t get the smile of his face. He looks around at his pack as they make their way through the house, they’re all talking excitedly to Stiles, laughing and joking. Having Stiles away has taken quite a toll on them all, not only because they all have been affected by Derek’s feelings but also because they all were missing Stiles. Derek kisses his boyfriend’s cheek, not really listening as Jackson explains how the home cinema works. The pack is finally whole again.

 


End file.
